Mantle
by Eirian1
Summary: The stakes have never been higher nor the price of failure more costly as Teyla fights to the truth and two powerful enemies come to blows when one is forced to assume the mantle of the other. Virtual Season 5 Episode 4
1. Act 1

Author's disclaimer: I do not own _Stargate Atlantis_ and its associated characters. MGM does, for which, for the most part, they have my utmost respect. No copyright infringement is intended in writing these stories.

My deepest respect also goes to the talented actors that brought to life the characters we see in _Stargate Atlantis._ My portrayal of the characters here is based on my perception of the work of Joe Flanigan, Jason Momoa, Rachel Luttrell, Paul McGillion, David Hewlett, Amanda Tapping, Robert Picardo and Connor Trinneer. Without these people and those that came before them, there would have been no _Atlantis_ as we know it today.

Other assorted original characters (i.e. those that don't really appear in the show) are my own creation, and they, along with the original material presented here are © Eirian Phillips 2008.

Story is rated for mature readers, according to whatever rating system is adopted these days for Fan Fiction. It changes on a site by site basis… It was so much easier way back when…

There may be other virtual seasons of _SGA_ out there in cyberspace. Some may even be unofficially official. However, as a writer, I don't believe that this should discourage others from having their own ideas about things. Mine are presented here.

I can be reached at Feedback is always welcome and emails are usually answered.

Characters and events are purely fictitious, and any similarity to anyone living, transformed, dead, cloned or in any alternate universe or timeline is entirely coincidental.

Stargate Atlantis

**Mantle**

Knowledge Is Power.

_"… it was the turning point. It was the key to __**everything**__. Once Michael had that baby, he was able to complete his research and perfect the hybrids."_

_Rodney McKay – The Last Man_

Previously on Stargate Atlantis:

Todd struggled slowly to his feet. His blood boiled and his belly churned in the sickness of need – of hunger that was not all his own – already the Queen had moved past him… he had been dismissed and knew that delay would only anger her again.

Quickly he started toward the door, and almost stumbled when the grasp of her mind tightened around his again, turning him back to her even as she turned to face him.

"What of the other?" she hissed slowly, her eyes again narrowing in barely contained fury.

Slowly he shook his head. There was no sign of the one of whom she spoke…

**

"Where are you taking her?" Teyla demanded hotly.

Michael glanced at her, answering, "She will go with the others."

"Go where?" Vega demanded, struggling with them as Michael's soldiers took her by the arms, and all but carried her, crying out in protest for every step they took. "Please… where are you taking me?"

**

A scuffle by the doorway to the laboratory made Todd look up from watching the simulation he was running.

_=You said your work would be easier with subjects on which to experiment=_

Behind the Queen, pairs of warriors dragged between them three unconscious figures.

He lifted the head of one of the prisoners, staring with near revulsion at the almost human face – the traces of Wraith ancillary features, and engorged veins, clear on their pallid skin.

_~they will be most helpful, I'm sure~_

He moved to the last of the prisoners she brought him and wound his hand almost angrily into the long dark hair, to pull back the head and study the hybrid subject as he had the others, but instead he frowned in confusion, looking into the unblemished face of the young human woman.

**

She felt Michael's hand close in her hair and a moment later he pulled her head back, painfully, until she looked up into his eyes. Terrified she started to reach for his hand with her own that was not pinned to her side by his nearness. She struggled to free herself, but he slapped her hand away, and then caught her wrist to pin her to the bulkhead.

"Wrong choice, Captain," he told her, towering over her, appearing massive, deadly. "Let's not make this any more unpleasant than it needs to be."

Her imagination began to weave images of hideous experiments, vivid and lurid impressions of pain and suffering; of what would be once he was done with her – finished with and left to _live_ with what was, instead of made to die. Her knees weakened and she pressed backwards, ignoring the pain as the movement pulled at the roots of her hair, as far away from him as she could get. Then, as quickly as her near paralysed muscles would allow she reached inside her shirt and plucked the memory module from her undergarment. She held it out toward him.

Slowly he unwound his fingers from her hair as he took the component from her trembling hand. Then without another word to her, he turned and started to the door.

"Wait," she called after him, "What… what are you going to do to me?"

He paused in the doorway and looked back at her over his shoulder. The cold amusement in his eyes withered what was left of her spirit.

"It is already done," he told her.

**

He walked toward Lisstha, a cat stalking his prey and as he came into the light, even though each of her nerves and senses screamed at her to back away, her defiant resolve made her stand in place; accept his touch as he ran his fingertips over her face.

"So naïve," he said quietly, "for all these years your Haradian masters have kept from you, by their own servitude, the most fearful of terrors and you do not even know…" he shook his head then. "Such a shame it cannot continue."

"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked him.

For a moment she thought, like all her other questions, he would refuse to answer, but then he began speaking quietly again, and almost, she thought, with regret. "There are times when matters that were once… unknown by many, must be brought into the light." Then he tipped his head back a little, as if coming suddenly awake, and in a tone more clipped and final than before said, "It is a necessary step to complete my work."

"Your work?"

"You wouldn't understand," he told her, and began to turn away again, to return to his watchfulness.

"I'm not stupid!" she told him, fear driving her to be angry. When he did not offer more, she demanded, "What do you want from me?"

"Absolutely nothing," he said without turning.

"Then free me," she pleaded.

He turned back to her then, his head tilted, and a frown of confusion barely visible through the shadows in which he stood. "Where would you go?" he asked. "You cannot return to your people. They consider you to be a traitor and if I released you to those who would take you to their masters, you would not survive. You are no longer useful to them." He regarded her for a moment after in silence, his eyes burning in a way that chilled to the core, before he said, "No. I have learned to value what resources I might gather."

"But you said—"

"I said I wanted nothing from you," he corrected her before she even finished the sentence, "but I may yet find a use _for_ you."

**

Feeling hollow, as the meaning of everything that had happened trickled through her consciousness, to seep into her limbs and fill them with lethargy; dull the beating of her heart, she turned and completed the dialling sequence. Waiting with tears beginning to gather inside of her, tears she refused to shed, until the initial rush of the wormhole had died away to a shimmering stability, she leaned against the DHD.

"Teyla, wait!" Sheppard yelled.

She took a step toward the Stargate, and with a glance up the trail she stepped within.

**

Rodney said, "With the information we have in the recovered data, the DNA samples we managed to bring back from M3X-667, and… some… data we hold here in our systems, I think we may be looking at some of the oldest, if not _the_ oldest, Wraith still alive." He cleared his throat, "I've asked Doctor Keller to take a look at the DNA, for a second opinion."

"Why?" Woolsey asked, "Does it matter?"

Rodney shrugged a little uncomfortably. "Just… playing a hunch." he said softly.

**

"You know that old saying, '_Don't ask questions unless you really want to know the answers_?'"

"No, but go on anyway." he said.

Taking a deep breath, Jennifer reached to the back of the file, and picked up the results of a PCR test and handed it to him, before handing him a second sheet. "I ran a comparison between that, and the one I made from some blood and tissue samples I took from Teyla when we first got her back from Michael. Those are the results." she said.

Rodney looked back and forth between the two, frowning as he studied them. The more he looked, the deeper he frowned until he couldn't deny what his eyes were telling him any longer.

**

_"You are not like the others," he said. His fingers travelled from her shoulders, down the length of her arms to find her hands, to guide her suddenly quiescent fingers into relinquishing their hold on the P90 they contained. "There. Much better," he said softly, as the weapon clattered to the floor of the chamber._

_"Let go of me!" she demanded, pulling against where his hands still covered hers._

_"I will admit, when first I sensed you, I was surprised to discover than any of your kind still lived. I thought you had all been eradicated, either by my own kind or by yours. Either way, it is… interesting to see the result of it all made flesh."_

_"Take your hands off me," she snarled._

_"Make me."_

_-Make me- -make me- - make me-_

_Suddenly she spun away from him, twisting his hand and pulling him closer again before she shifted her balance and brought her knee upward toward his middle. He let one knee bend beneath him, allowing him to turn and take the blow against his hip, at the same time releasing the hand he still held, and quickly bringing his arm across to defend against the blow she aimed at him with the other._

_She used the momentum of the blocked attack to all but somersault over his left shoulder; to put herself behind him. He continued his own descent, and turned quickly on one knee, his long white hair flying behind him as he did._

_This time _he_ came at _her_, and he was pulling no punches. His hands were a blur that she fought to keep up with; hurried to block the incoming blows as she was forced to give ground._

_"Good," he murmured, hardly out of breath, as hers came tremulously, her body fighting fatigue. Step by step he forced her toward the bulkhead wall until she had nowhere left to go, until her arms burned with the effort of holding back his blows… her eyes darting to find an opening, to make an attack of her own. He encouraged her, "Yes…"_

_She lashed out suddenly, sensing an opening – but it was a trick of her tired mind – and he easily caught her wrist, pressed her against the wall with the whole of him. His fingers grazed her wrist, and then passed over her palm to entwine with her own and hold her in place. His right hand pressed against her chest._

_Her breathing came in startled, terrified snatches, but all the same there was something primal, almost needful in the sensations travelling through her in that moment._

_"There are two possibilities from this point," he told her, capturing her eyes with his as he tilted his head, continuing in a whisper, "What are we…to do?"_

**

Michael growled, in fury, and then coming to one knee behind the kneeling Wraith he grasped his hair, and pulled back his head. Pushing his own knife into Todd's hand, he hissed dangerously against the Wraith's cheek, "Tell her… I _defy_ her!"

**

Teyla took another step away from him… What had happened to the others was all her fault. If she had been more careful, if she had listened to Sam instead of chasing half remembered dreams that she knew now to be a lie she—

"No," Michael told her, taking a halting step towards her. "When I reached out to you there was not a word spoken that was a lie. You _must_ come with me, Teyla. I need—"

She wrapped her arm protectively around her belly, using the fear she had for her son to try and quash all thoughts of the way her stomach suddenly tightened at his words. She cut him off. "He is _my_ child, Michael. I will not allow you to _use _him."

**

"—you must go with him," Kanaan continued.

"Kanaan—?" she started, but her voice cracked and stopped the rest of the sentence before it began as she saw the gun in his hand. "No, I can't, I—"

"You must." Kanaan said darkly.

The pain was only fleeting - a burning heat that began somewhere in her chest as the rhythm of her heart faltered. It spread outwards through all of her limbs, draining her strength. She managed to turn her head toward a sound she had barely registered – high pitched and harsh. Kanaan still stood with his weapon raised, and pointed in her direction.

"No… Kanaan," she whispered, and as the blue lights of the cruiser began to darken around her, she reached for the one person who had only ever been true to his words to her.

Michael caught her flailing hand and guided it to his shoulder as his arm came around her, supportive and strong. He gently lowered her to the deck and did not let go of her.

She whispered his name.

_-Don't speak-_

"That was unnecessary," he was still angry. His tone clipped.

_-You're safe-_

"She would have fought you," Kanaan's voice held none of the warmth she remembered from their childhood, their friendship. "I know Teyla."

"You overreach yourself!" Michael snapped, his voice a whip this time. "Go and join the others. You have work to do."

"Michael…" she whispered, and tried to move her hand along his shoulder, to touch his cheek, but as she tried, he slowly released his hold on her consciousness. Her hand slipped and fell across his arm as he gently picked her up. She barely registered their movement as he carried her from the area.

**

Todd could almost taste the anticipation as the Cascade Beam raced across the distance between his cruiser and that of the Abomination. He mentally counted the seconds until with an almost snarling hiss he watched the shields of the other cruiser flare brightly. Any moment they would collapse inward. The energy of the beam would feed back through the nodes that generated the shields and would disable them and the comm. array and would send a cascading overload throughout all the systems of the ship, destroying it from the inside out and there would be nothing to be done to prevent it.

Seconds passed and a frown, born of confusion, found its way to his face as his sensors failed, the chatter of Dart telemetry falling silent on the bridge. He grasped the controls, letting his mind fall into oneness with the cruiser's interface and ran a diagnostic program to try and find the cause of the failure. As the answer came to him the blood in his veins chilled and slowed.

"That's not possible," he said aloud, and abandoned his position to race to the forward viewing port. Even before he saw the leading edge of the approaching wave, he felt the cold touch of a thought inside his head that did not come from any one of his brothers.

_-Did you think I would forget?-_

**

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Michael said softly, almost calmly in warning. "If my hand leaves its place, we will both of us be dead and locked inside this rocky tomb."

"I find it hard to believe that you would sacrifice yourself, and so many years of toil, simply to prevent me from achieving what I came here to do," Todd said.

"If that is a risk you wish to take; is what you choose to believe," Michael almost purred, adding in bitter sarcasm, "then go ahead, pull the trigger… take your _prize_ back to your Queen."

"Come now," Todd moved with him, circling in the same direction, to keep the same distance between them, more than aware of how dangerous this individual could be. "Surely we can settle this like civilised—"

"What?" Michael spat bitterly, spreading his arms to either side of him, "Wraith?"

"Hardly," Todd said coldly.

**

The resigned almost bewildered look of hurt still lingered on his face as he looked up to meet the confused expression that momentarily creased her brow. "I may not be foolish enough to consider us friends, but… we do have a history." She couldn't take her eyes from his as she listened to his words, the frown deepened as if she were trying to make sense of them, "And even though you've betrayed me repeatedly, you're still the only one, Human or Wraith, who's ever come close to understanding what I've been through."

"Really?" she asked, tremulously, trying to deny his words.

"We're not that different, Teyla."

**

_"I will live the rest of my life as I choose. But I can't do it alone."_

_Michael – Vengeance_

**Act 1**

_Old habits die hard._ Teyla couldn't help but recall the saying that Jennifer had once explained to her as she stepped from the Gate and immediately checked the cloudless, blue sky for presence of danger. The only things darting and flying in the air around her were the many coloured birds that graced the planet.

Suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the months since her capture by Michael, she leaned heavily against the DHD and began to dial a random address from her memory. With each symbol she pressed, the anger and the hurt stabbed more deeply into her heart until she could barely see what symbols she pressed. The loss of her son, the doubt of her friends, Kanaan – dead and still lying on some unnamed world… Woolsey… being treated little better than some rabid beast…

As the wormhole rushed into being, she sobbed loudly and, feeling suddenly nauseous, bent almost double as she gripped the side of the DHD. She tried to count the seconds that the wormhole had been active, but in the end, reached with a trembling hand to shut down the Gate. She had to find rest soon, and it was a long walk from the Gate to the village where she would find her friend.

The quiet scuff of a footstep behind her sent every sense spiralling into alert. She felt her heart begin pounding once more in her chest as her adrenaline surged within her, leaving her instantly breathless, almost panting as panic replaced the exhaustion. She spun around, dropped into a half crouch, but her tired muscles could not hold her, not without rest, and, unbalanced, she toppled backwards, to land in the dirt beside the gate.

The girl, for that was who stood before her as she turned, gasped softly and took a step back. She looked as though she would bolt. There was something familiar about the way the girl's auburn hair curled around a delicate chin, and about the startled green eyes that stared at her, and Teyla couldn't help but level an open hand toward the girl.

"I am sorry," she said, trying to speak through the thickness in the back of her throat.

"Teyla?" the girl said. Her light voice was full of surprise and concern both at the same time. When Teyla frowned as she tried to remember how the girl might know her, and why she could not give a name to the familiar face. The child went on, "It is Chaya… my mother is Raisa. Do you not remember us?"

The soft, innocent question proved too much for Teyla, and at last she let go of all the tears that had gathered inside of her. Sobbing, she could not answer… and weakened, she could not rise. She reached out and gripped the supporting cylinder of the DHD and managed a single word. "Help!"

"Oh, Teyla, you are sick. I will fetch my mother," Chaya said, and the sympathy, the loving care in her voice only added to Teyla's overwhelming emotion.

**

He still moved a little stiffly, and with the slightest of limps, for he had not allowed himself to fully sate the hunger his injuries had brought him, nor to forget the debt he owed to the Renegade – Abomination.

Todd let out a sigh, but in the grip of the memory of his defeat within the ancient laboratory, it became more of a snarling hiss as he stalked toward the Queen's chamber. He could not put off the delivery of the message to her any longer, he knew, and was fully prepared for whatever she might use in castigating him for his failure. He expected it… perhaps even welcomed it. It would only serve to fuel the fire he harboured inside, a burning antagonism he had always felt with that one, even when he had still been Wraith.

_His Queen had been specific. They were to treat their visitors with dignity, as allies. They would, after all, be working closely together to try and find a weapon with which they could combat the Lanteans, but still… he resented the presence of another scientist. __**He**__ should have been enough for his Queen._

_The incoming Dart set down three Wraith and he tried to work out which of them was the scientist, sent by the other Hive._

_Their Queens had been deep in conversation for many days in a neutral location, before each had returned to their own Hives to make arrangements for this… but still, even with his devotion to his Queen, he did not want this usurper's help._

_-bring me to your laboratory-_

_The touch within his mind was cold and hard, but with an undeniable edge that he recognised as the spark of the other's acute intelligence. There was a certain pattern to the firing of the neurons. Before moving he looked over the newcomer, taking in the sight of him, and the two guards that attended him._

_The other scientist was unmarked, as least as far as he could see. His features were finely chiselled and sharp, as sharp as his eyes which, he knew, were also taking in the sights around him._

_~of course~_

_He stood to one side and waved his hand along the walkway in the Dart Bay of the Hive._

_~this way~_

_-my Queen informs me that we are to work together. Will you not even trust enough to walk at my side?-_

_~will __**you**__ not trust enough to leave behind your guards?~_

_There was an unmistakeable edge of sarcasm to the chuckle that escaped the other scientist's lips at that…and his answer was to proceed along the walkway with his guards behind him, leaving his host to follow as if he were some kind of subordinate..._

But… he realised now, that had been his choice, and he had been manipulated into it. The arrogance of it brought a new wave of burning resentment flushing through him. He growled again, loudly, as he continued on his way.

The Queen had already sent a summoning touch against his mind three times before he turned into the hallway leading to her Chamber. Her constant nagging, pushing at those private spaces in his mind, began to irritate him more and more as the days passed, but he was realistic enough to know that if he were to achieve his aim, he needed the resources he could use on the Hive, and the influence she possessed, and for now that far outbalanced his desire to plunge his dagger into her chest and rip out her still beating heart. But for this Queen—

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the guards before her door crossed their staff weapons in his path. He snarled in momentary irritation.

_~she has summoned me – stand aside~_

Then his irritation faded as he looked beyond them to watch as the Queen lounged provocatively on her throne, tended by her trusted handmaidens. He tilted his head, looking from one of them to the other. As humans went they were not unpleasing to the eye, and he understood the clarity that could be gained from the physical satisfaction they could bring. His eyes drifted once more to find their Lantean captive, where she stood behind the Queen, pouring oil onto the Elder Wraith's naked shoulder and with her delicate fingers, massaging away the tension. He could not help but see the irony of it, planted, as she was, in their midst by the one the Queen sought to capture – a ticking bomb among them.

Shaking his head, he chuckled slightly.

**

_"Michael," she laid her head against his shoulder as he carried her, "I can't…"_

_-Teyla-_

_"This is as it must be," he told her as he almost tenderly set her down, propped against the pillows._

_"Why?" she clung to him as he arranged the pillows behind her. Another pain gripped her, stealing the rest of the question from her lips._

_"Because I need him," he told her, and he sounded almost apologetic as he freed himself from her grasp. "What must be done cannot be done without him."_

_At his words, tears of fear and anger came to her eyes and she looked away. He must have seen because he reached to cup the side of her face in his hand, to make her look at him again. "I will not harm him. Why can't you just accept that?"_

_"Because—" she started, and was forced to stop again as another pain stole her breath. Her anger evaporated. He was the only one who could help her. She reached for him again, and gasped, "Michael, please…!"_

_He pushed aside her hands as she pleaded with him and said, "We must do this, and then you must rest… trust me…" For barely a heartbeat he caught one of her flailing hands, and laid it, beneath his own, against his chest. His heart beat strongly beneath her fingers, even as the tight wave of pain came crashing over her._

_-trust-_

…_why…?_

_"Tell me why?" She voiced the thought that gripped her mind so hard._

_The hard edge in his eyes softened and for a moment he looked as though he would speak. His lips shaped her name…_

_"Yes… please, Michael!"_

"Gently, Teyla, gently," A soft, warm hand closed over her bare shoulder as the quiet, familiar voice almost sang the words to her when she came awake, gasping with the memory of the dream.

As her eyes began to focus, she found herself looking into Raisa's concerned face. The Laquoian woman was exactly as she remembered her. That fact alone almost brought fresh tears to her eyes.

"Chaya found you near the Ring of the Ancestors. When I came to you, you were burning with fever. I have given you medicine." Her friend tenderly brushed the hair back from her face. "How do you feel now?"

Teyla considered the question. She still felt heavy with sleep and her head ached a little, but the soft blankets felt pleasant against her naked skin, she was warm, comfortable and feeling for the first time in as long as she could remember, almost safe.

"Better," she said at last, "Raisa, thank you."

"I have done no more for you than you once did for me, my friend," Raisa said. "There is food, if you are hungry and, beside you, there are fresh clothes. There is little I could do to save the old."

Teyla shook her head, "It does not matter," she said of the clothes, and surprised herself by feeling relieved to be rid of the reminder of Atlantis, at least for a while. "And I am… quite hungry."

"Good," her friend smiled again, an open and genuine smile. "Chaya and I must close up the animals in their pen for the night. We will leave you to rise, and then we will share a meal together." Raisa stood up from where she knelt at the side of the bed, and walked toward the door, where she stopped and turned back to face the Athosian. "I am glad that you came to me, Teyla."

**

"No, no, no," Zelenka frowned and went to stop one of the technicians working on the bridge of the Daedalus from taking apart the wrong control panel, he moved to the side and indicated another bank of controls with the sweep of his hand. "This one."

He walked away, his eyes fixed on the tablet he held, muttering to himself in his native tongue, heading for the next area that needed urgent attention.

"Doctor Zelenka!"

He turned, almost colliding with the bulkhead, as he heard Colonel Caldwell calling his name.

"Colonel," he nodded in greeting to the other man. "The repairs are well under way. We should have the main drive rebooted in under an hour. The beaming technology is going to take longer, I'm afraid. Without access to the transversion coil, we have to regrow the original crystal almost from scratch. However, weapons and shields are almost fully repaired and we've incorporated Rodney's safety protocol into the shield generators."

Caldwell stood waiting until the scientist came up for air, before interrupting. "Where _is_ Doctor McKay?" he asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Colonel Caldwell," Zelenka answered with a shrug, "I'm not certain whether he's still pouring over old Wraith data, or back on M4G-584 with Bravo team, still sifting through the rubble they found after the explosion, or indeed where he i—"

"Well, I'll tell you where he's _supposed_ to be," Caldwell interrupted. "He's meant to be at a senior staff meeting in the conference room."

"Zapomněl jsem o tom," Zelenka muttered, and ran his hand through his hair, and before Caldwell could say anything more, hurried off toward the airlock.

**

The pattern of lights on the ground swirled in oranges and reds beneath his feet, and he tensed in anticipation of her anger. She hadn't kept him waiting outside for long, barely long enough to gather his dignity before the staves in front of him uncrossed and the pressure in his mind beckoned him forwards.

_=So, you are amused=_

"My Queen," he bowed his head then, fixing his eyes firmly onto the floor of her chamber and there he remained, even as he felt her stalking toward him.

"I see you have returned without that which you promised me," she snarled as she reached him.

Her mind was like a whip, lashing out and raking against the pain receptors of his brain and sending fire along the most sensitive of his nerves. He let out a long, slow breath, but refused to yield to her torment. He gathered all the faculties of his defences around him and, for a moment, considered retaliating in kind, but it was a momentary notion only. Such treatment of any Queen could lead only one of two ways, and with _this_ Queen he was neither ready, nor willing, for either eventuality.

_~there is a message~_

Even for him to deliver the Renegade's threatening message was a risk, but he could not – would not – remain mute before her, and allow her to interpret his actions and his attitude as weakness.

Abruptly her mental assault ended, and he could not help but gasp at the relief of its absence, almost staggering as his tense muscles no longer had reason to fight.

"Speak," she instructed with a wave of her hand as she turned and walked a few steps away.

"Tell her, I defy her," he quoted dispassionately, then watched almost in amusement as she spun, snarling, to face him again. He felt her disbelief.

"Defy?" she questioned.

"Those were its words, my Queen." he said.

The red and orange lights deepened to a near blood red hue, which seeped across the chamber floor as her fury infected the ship. She let out a long vehement hiss of displeasure that echoed through his mind and, he knew, the minds of the others of the Hive.

Todd could not help but glance toward Vega. He saw her curled beside the Queen's throne with her arms wrapped around herself, in pain as the Queen's emotions flowed through her. He frowned. It was not unusual for human followers to become so linked to their Wraith masters that they shared such things, but if the Queen saw it as weakness, she would dispose of the Lantean and, for the moment, it did not fit his agenda for her to do so. He needed to find an excuse to get her out of the chamber.

With the Queen distracted by her anger he quickly mounted the steps and closed a hand around Vega's upper arm to pull her to her feet. He gestured to the other handmaiden to come to them.

"Take her," he commanded, "Draw your Queen a bath to soothe her tension."

He watched as they disappeared through the doorway behind the throne, before returning to the Queen's side. He could already feel that the storm of her emotions was quickly playing itself out, anger subsiding again.

"So audacious," she hissed as he came to stand before her.

"My Queen?" his heart lurched a little in concern that she had not been as distracted as he had believed.

"The Renegade thinks it has the strength to defy _me._" she sighed softly, and then looked past Todd. "Why did you send them away?"

"Forgive me, my Queen," he said with a slight inclination of his head, "I sought to anticipate your need, and sent them to your bathing chambers."

She tilted her head then, and almost smiled…

_=Such consideration=_

…but there was almost sadness in the touch of her mind in his.

"Something troubles you," he said, not quite a question, into the ensuing silence.

"This _other_ that I have often times felt," she said, unguarded and open as she began to circle him, her hand on the apex of his shoulder. "It begins to seem as though she has greater influence than I first believed."

"I am certain that she is… no match for you, my Queen," he said quietly, holding his breath as she stepped up close behind him.

_=we must find her=_

She let out a long, slow hiss right against the nape of his neck. He could not help but shiver.

**

"…and the scientists accompanying my team have been able to find little of use among the wreckage they've been able to reach, unfortunately, but we have continued the excavations, just to be certain there's nothing we've missed." Lieutenant Birkle looked nervously around the room. "It's been much easier since the Wraith withdrew of course. It's almost like they've lost interest in the place."

"I'm certain they have," Woolsey said, his voice clipped, "Now that Michael has no reason to be there."

Sheppard glared at Woolsey, about to open his mouth and call the man on his insinuations, but a rather flustered Zelenka bustled into the conference room and began to murmur apologies to each person he passed on the way to the vacant seat at the table.

"Doctor Zelenka," Woolsey greeted him with a questioning tone in his voice, "this is a briefing for senior staff and—"

"I'm aware of that, Mister Woolsey," Zelenka answered, "Doctor McKay deputised me to attend in his place if he was delayed by his work."

"I see," Woolsey said, looking around as though he expected McKay to have suddenly appeared. Finally, he nodded, "Very well. You were saying, Lieutenant Birkle?"

"Mostly, I'd finished, Mister Woolsey. The clean up is almost finished, the scientists are combing over the remains of Michael's hidden laboratory, and the Wraith have pulled out." he shrugged, "That's pretty much it."

Woolsey nodded his thanks, and turned to raise an eyebrow at Sheppard, who still had a scowl on his face. "Colonel?"

Sheppard jumped a little, still seething slightly from Woolsey's dogged, tacit insistence of Teyla's involvement with Michael. _How does it feel, Colonel Sheppard, to know that it's me she calls for…?_

"Daedalus has arrived back," he reported, trying to distract himself from his dark thoughts, "Limping slightly, but still in one piece. Charlie and Delta are out in the field investigating a number of leads… they've had limited engagements with small scouting parties either belonging to the Wraith, or to Michael's armies. The two seem to be playing some kind of cat and mouse game with each other right now and that suits us just fine. The Commander of the Delta team reported that the Wraith they encountered appear to be looking for someone… most likely Michael."

"But there could be other possibilities?" Woolsey suggested, only half questioning.

"No, there _couldn't_ be other possibilities." Sheppard said. The irritation was plain in his voice, even to himself.

"And Teyla?" Woolsey asked, "Are we any closer to finding out where she could have gone?"

Sheppard shook his head, opening his mouth to answer, but Ronon got in first, "McKay was going to see if there was anything he could pull from the buffer on M4G-584—"

"It's unlikely he will," Zelenka warned.

"—Sheppard and I decided we'd go talk to Halling, see if he can think of anywhere she'd go," Ronon finished.

"If he'll even talk to us," Sheppard added, petulantly.

"Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey finally snapped, "Do we have a problem?"

"Hell, yes, we have a problem," Sheppard answered. "You. You're the problem. You—"

"Gentlemen! Stop!" Keller raised her voice, repeating herself until Sheppard took a breath and settled. "Look, it's been a difficult time for all of us. We've each been involved in events that would test anyone's resolve, but let's not take it out on each other. Let's keep the facts in sight, please. We need to find Michael if we've got any hope of getting the baby back, but at this stage I think we're probably all thinking the same thing. We need to find him or his research if I'm going to be able to help Lorne, or Doctor Beckett, and we need to find Teyla. She's sick…" Sheppard frowned again, and Jennifer held up her hand to stop him from interrupting her, "Post Traumatic Stress, Colonel Sheppard, _especially_ of the kind that Teyla's suffering, is a _very_ serious matter."

Sheppard took a breath. He had to concede to that.

Woolsey sighed, "I apologise. It was a difficult few hours for me as well. It's not every day you get used as a hostage."

"Yeah, sorry about the…" Sheppard said, grudgingly and mimed the punch he'd given Woolsey. "So… me and Ronon will… visit with the Athosians, figure out where Teyla might go. Charlie and Delta Teams are checking Intel, and from what I gather," he glanced at Zelenka, "the technical guys are searching for subspace signatures that might lead us where we need to be, right?"

"Right," Zelenka confirmed, nervously pushing up his glasses. "We have a sensor sweep rotating on a four hourly basis, that's as much as we can manage right now. So far it hasn't picked up very much that has deviated from anything we've been tracking for a long time. There are no new congregations of Hive ships, and the Mother Hive seems to have gone to ground somewhere before we began searching… We've been unable to find any of the cruisers with the same resonance signature that we know as Michael's, so it would seem that he's gone into hiding as well."

Woolsey sighed, "And the Daedalus?"

"Repairs are well under way," Zelenka added. "The beaming technology is going to take the longest to recover, because we're having to regrow the crystal. Otherwise, it's nothing we can't handle."

"All right," Woolsey said, "Then I guess, for the time being, we all know our priorities. Doctor Keller, any word about Major Hollick or Captain Warsh?"

"The captain came through surgery very well, he's recovering in sick bay and should be back to active duty in a week or so. Major Hollick is still in intensive care. He lost a lot of blood before the duty sergeant could get him to the infirmary, so I can't give any promises or guarantees."

Sheppard looked over at the doctor, and her face was very grim… but beneath it, there was a nervousness that she usually wore when she had something else on her mind.

**

McKay looked behind him several times before he settled down in front of the DHD and removed the front panel. Every sound around him made him start with nervousness. He expected each rustle of vegetation to be the scuttling of chitinous claws on rocks as a whole nest of Iratus bugs came to feed on him, or worse, the scrape of a Wraith boot as the creature came to do the same. There was something about being able to talk to something that ate you that just made him feel cold all over.

"There's nothing there, McKay," he said to himself as he clipped the computer tablet to the circuits inside the DHD and began downloading the data. He watched the dialogue box tell him that it had completed three percent of the download and realised it was going to take a very long time. With a sigh he took out his handgun, turned his back to rest against the DHD and peered out into the darkness.

He sighed again and, after a while, turned to trying to watch the symbols flying across his screen and put together a gate address, _any_ gate address that Teyla could have used. With what he'd seen he _had_ to get to Teyla, and soon.

_He finally looked up from the PCRs and caught Jennifer's eyes. "Is there any way this could be wrong?" he asked._

_"I doubt it, Rodney. I ran the test four times," Jennifer sighed, "without the comparative DNA…"_

_She shrugged and looked at him as though it hurt him not to be able to tell him that it was all wrong…and everything was normal._

_"What if I brought you Kanaan's body?" he asked._

_"Rodney, even __**supposing**__ you could get Kanaan's body back into the city without being spotted, which I doubt, I'm not a forensic scientist, and what I'm doing __**here**__ is pushing me almost beyond the extent of my expertise in genetics."_

_"But supposing I could," he pressed._

_"And what if it just confirms this?" She said, flicking the edge of the PCR in his left hand._

_"Well then… then…" he faltered, did he really want that, "At least we'd know… At least you'd have the answer for when she called you on it all being a lie!"_

Rodney McKay sighed, and uncharacteristically picked up a rock and hurled it into the darkness. "Damn you, Michael!" he spat.

**

It comforted Michael, to some degree, to know that as he walked into this, perhaps the most heavily protected and concealed of his facilities, that at least here, all was in order. All was at it should be.

Without breaking stride he took the Wraith tablet from one of his hybrid lieutenants that brought it to him, and read the contents of it as he walked. He sighed… another of the laboratories compromised, but at least the failsafe would have destroyed anything useful to the intruder, or damaging to his plans.

"When they have rested, send the company aboard the second cruiser to the Frotarin home world." he paused long enough to allow the many possibilities of what to do with them to find their way into his mind and be categorised. They had proven useful, and while he hated to lose the support they had given, it was undeniable that they were a threat, should they be compromised. "Bring those identified as Primary men and women aboard the cruiser."

"And the others?" the hybrid lieutenant asked.

"Neutralise them." he said, and handed back the tablet.

He knew that Frotari would not be the only place that he would have to treat in this way, but he was confident that… soon, it would not matter. He turned around a bend in the corridor and, for a time, felt a momentary tremor pass through his frame. There was much he had to do before he could take the next, necessary steps. He took a deep breath to calm himself. It would not do for him to appear unsettled in front of his followers. He knew his orders would be followed to the letter and, whatever _he_ must come through, he would face, as he had everything else.

He began walking again, keying the access code on one of the door panels to allow him entry. Almost as soon as he was inside his eyes sought out the readings on the monitor there. He did not relax until he saw the rapid but steady readings. Then he crossed toward a covered chamber at the side of the room, which was linked to the monitors. Keying another code, he released the chamber's lock, and opened it to reach inside.

**

Todd had never really been squeamish, but, when he looked in on the effects of the latest of his serums on his hybrid subject, he couldn't help but shiver, and take a step back. It was irrational. There was an organic barrier between them, the _thing_ within the chamber could not reach him, but the revulsion that flooded through him, destroying his scientific objectivity in its wake, left him almost trembling.

"It did not work?" the Queen only half asked, walking up behind him and also looking in on the creature.

"I will need to take a sample of its blood to be certain of why, but I would assume that the Wraith cells in its DNA mutated far too quickly to be stable." Todd answered.

The Queen frowned at him. "Mutated? Why?"

Todd sighed and shook his head. "Without access to the original research that created these… hybrids in the first place," he said, "It is impossible to say."

"Surely you have taken a baseline blood sample," she tilted her head as she looked at him when he turned away from the creature.

"Of course I did," he said, failing to keep the irritation from his voice. Luckily, the Queen's scientific curiosity quelled her tendency to find being spoken to in such a way offensive, and she actually chuckled softly.

"Of course you did," she repeated. "You are, after all, chief among my scientists."

"And I will compare the two once I have obtained a new sample," he snapped. He would not ordinarily risk having made the same 'mistake' a second time, but in the moment she repeated his words, unguardedly her thoughts washed over him.

_=So alike… and yet… so different=_

Her hand trailed across his back, and the touch of her mind and of her hand angered him. He was aware that in that moment she was comparing him to the one they now reviled as a renegade, a _thing_ that stalked them, but which had once been Wraith – and brilliant – and deadly.

"I have work to do," he said.

"I have offended you," she replied. "It was not my intention. I merely express an interest in the work of my scientist."

Todd took a deep and steadying breath. He heard the tension in her voice, the curiosity was fading, which meant she would once again become impatient, demanding.

"Of course, My Queen," he said, forcing himself to let go of the resentment, the antagonism, "Forgive my frustration… I had thought this serum would work."

At the Queen's side he once more turned and looked on the mutated hybrid. It was still humanoid, though bent and twisted as though the frame on which its flesh hung had somehow buckled. One of its hands had swollen, and was club-like, bruised and blackened. The hair that hung from its head was lank and colourless, as though bleached… and was patchy where the mutant had scratched at its misshapen head, but it was the eyes that were most chilling… Wraithlike, no more the pale, colourless orbs the hybrids usually seemed to have, but bloodshot as though in great hunger.

**

"And you remember nothing of that time?" her friend asked softly. As Teyla had almost finished her food, Raisa nodded at the pot of stew still warming over the hearth. Teyla started to get up, but Raisa stopped her, and filled her bowl once more before the Athosian woman could move very far.

"Very little," Teyla said, "Snippets only, and those I do recall are disjointed and confused, as they come to me mostly in dreams."

"But you are afraid that something terrible has been done to you," Raisa said. "Without even knowing you the way I do, it's obvious. This creature… this _monster_—"

"Raisa, please, I know you will not understand this, but…" Teyla stopped, and sighed heavily. How could she explain to her friend the complex relationship between the two of them?

"Teyla, you know I will not judge you. Tell me." Raisa said.

"I share a connection with Michael." She put down her food and wrapped her arms around herself as if she were suddenly cold. One hand pressed against the middle of her chest, as though there was great pain there. "I _feel_ him… even now."

"Now?" Raisa looked around, as though fearful this creature she'd heard so much about in the last few hours would suddenly leap from the shadows, feed on them all – or worse, now that he no longer fed.

Teyla closed her eyes and sighed, to be able to admit to someone, to speak the words aloud that she had long denied even to herself, terrified her.

"He worries," she said absently. "There is concern in him, and a great and terrible resolve." Slowly she breathed out, her mind reaching for that place of stillness where began their bond, even before she realised what she was doing. She continued, almost a whisper, "And tired… he is _so_ tired…"

_He paused in front of a heavy looking door, and keyed a number into the keypad there. For a moment he remained where he was, balancing a tray on one hand, while the other reached for the handle, and he waited, taking in a deep breath._

Teyla gasped suddenly, and Raisa jumped, reaching for her as she almost fell forward, to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"I am all right," Teyla told her. "I am sorry, I should not—"

"I asked you, Teyla. You do not need to apologise." When Teyla nodded, Raisa slowly took her hand away from her shoulder.

"I am afraid, Raisa," she confessed at last, "Of all the things I cannot understand and do not know, but more… of the things I know."

**

He knew he had to hurry. He was lucky to have found the control room unoccupied as it was, given that it was supposed to be manned twenty-four-seven. He didn't imagine that the Gate Technician would have gone very far.

Quickly his hands flew over the controls that would silence the alarms and allow him to dial the Gate without waking the whole of the city. Then he went to the control desk and began to punch in the sequence of symbols that would take him where he wanted—no, he corrected himself, where he _needed_ to be.

"Doctor McKay?"

He swore inwardly as the soft voice of the Gate Technician broke in on his hurried recitation of the required symbols. He broke off to say, "I wasn't here – you didn't see me."

"I'm sure you're aware that all Gate travel is to be logged," she answered.

"I wasn't here – you didn't see me," he repeated, without stopping dialling. A moment later the wormhole rushed in on the Gate Room before stabilising to the shimmering blue pool, which in the near darkness of the sleeping city was almost eerie. He turned, picked up a small silver case, as well as a large, cylindrical black bag, and started toward the stairs.

"At least tell me when you'll be back," The beleaguered technician asked his retreating back.

"I wasn't here – you didn't see me," was the only answer he gave. He hurried down toward the waiting gate, but after only a few steps, turned and mounted them again to add, "Oh, and you might want to turn the alarms back on once I've gone."

The technician gave an awkward kind of shrug and said, "You weren't here. I didn't see you."

McKay gave a little humourless laugh. "Huh… yes… quite. You're good," he said, and this time made it all the way, to disappear into the wormhole.

**

He stumbled a little as he stepped from the event horizon. It didn't exactly surprise him, he didn't know the terrain. The last time they'd been here they'd travelled aboard the Daedalus, and then by Jumper. He was just glad that the planet had a gate at all, even if it _was_ miles away from his destination.

With that thought fresh in his mind he pulled out the rough map he'd managed to create after downloading the passive sensor data from the Daedalus' computer, and the compass, each from a pocket in his coat, and began to consult them both.

"All right," he said, speaking aloud to try and embolden himself. "River… river… river should be…." he looked up and pointed, as though interpreting the map for someone else, "That way."

He set off, walking briskly in the direction indicated on his map. After only a short while he found himself standing on the edge of a steep ravine, looking down at the canyon floor below.

"Or not," he said, and turning away from the edge he set down the case, and opened it, to take out a small, hand held detector. "To hell with the map! Who needs a map anyway when you have one of these? See Rodney, just like I said. The River is this way." And once again he set off, this time in the right direction.

**

Michael took a deep breath and then pushed open the unlocked door. He braced himself for whatever the little woman would try to throw at him… literally, or so he understood. The reports from his hybrids, who had been tending this one in his absence, had been that she had become violent, in her captivity.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, she almost jumped to her feet, and retreated to the far side of the room. For a moment he paid no attention to her, simply set the tray down on the table, and stepped back. Only then did he look over at her. She was flat against the wall, almost gripping it with her fingertips.

"You must be hungry," he said at last. He could tell, by the way her eyes darted to the food on the tray, and then away quickly, and the way she trembled, that she was. Even without bothering to push into her mind. He tilted his head. "If so… why do you not eat?" When she did not answer, he went on, "It is something that has always puzzled me; that you humans deny yourselves the one thing that you truly need when you believe you are in peril from another."

_"How are you feeling?" She smiled at him softly._

_"Hungry." he answered._

_"I will see about getting your some food."_

"I'm very hungry," Lisstha said softly, she sounded hoarse. Her lip trembled as she spoke and she inched along the wall to put an even greater distance between them. "But… I'm afraid."

He frowned and tilted his head the other way. "Have my soldiers been… mistreating you?" he asked. She shook her head. "Then you have no reason to be afraid. Come." He lowered his eyes to the table for a moment before looking back at the young woman. "Eat."

Hesitantly she began to cross the room toward the table, like a startled animal, almost moving sideways to keep him in sight. He took another step backwards, to give her the comfort of space.

He did not speak again until she had begun to eat and he was pleased to see that she ate well. While she did, he made a visual examination of her condition. Her hands were bruised, and her knuckles scraped as though she had tried to pry the bricks from the wall. It took him a moment to realise that she had stopped eating, and when he shifted his gaze, he saw that she was looking at him, a little less startled now, but not much less fearfully.

"They must be sore," he nodded toward her hands.

"Yes," she said, looking down.

"Would you allow me to tend them for you?" he suggested softly, and when she frowned at him, he said, "At least allow me to send for hot water and towels so that you may bathe them – and yourself if you wish."

Already he had summoned a hybrid to bring the water, cloths for washing and drying, and fresh clothes, so that she could be comfortable. It would not be long before the sedative in the food took effect, and she would go to a more comfortable rest. He needed her to be strong.

"You'd do that?" she blinked at him.

_"What do you care about my well-being?" she spat._

_"I care a great deal." he answered._

"Of course," he said, frowning a little in transferred hurt.

"Please," she told him, "I _would_ like that… and perhaps—" she broke off, shaking her head.

"Yes?" he prompted.

She pushed her cup across the table toward him. "Perhaps something more to drink?" she said.

**

He pulled the small, inflatable boat up onto the shore, and fastened the rope to a nearby rock. He had no idea if the river was a tidal one, and the last thing he needed was for his only means of transportation back to the gate to float away if it were.

As he straightened up and looked around at the compound, he shivered. It was even creepier in the dead of night. He could not allow it to intimidate him. He came here to do something and he meant to do it to the best of his ability – no matter how gruesome it might prove to be.

Again he shuddered, this time at the thought of the state in which he might find the body after all this time. He tried to recall the standard rate of decay of a corpse of any kind, but his very unscientific fear of such things as ghosts and ghouls and long legged beasties, as Beckett would have it, completely denied him access to even the most rudimentary scientific fact.

Switching on his flashlight, he began to scan the compound for the correct building, before darting from shadow to shadow in search of his gruesome prize.

**

Once she had knocked on the door, he returned inside, having allowed her the privacy to bathe in peace. In truth it mattered little to him. Scientific curiosity, perhaps, might have drawn some comparison between one form and the next, but, in truth, he had too many other things on his mind to worry now if he had made an appropriate selection – if this choice was a wise one.

Still… for appearances… for the process to begin, he must at least _seem_ to be concerned, even caring – affectionate…

She yawned as he came inside, and stumbled a little. With his usual speed, his hand flashed out and he caught her elbow in support, holding her only until she was steady, before letting go and suggesting, "Perhaps you should sit."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I don't know what came over me. I'm just so tired now."

"I am certain it is merely because you have eaten your fill, and now are clean and comfortable," he said, putting a smile onto his face as he followed her toward the table and chair, where she sat down again. "Let me see." She blinked at him in confusion. "Your hands."

She held them out before her on the table top… without a touch he examined them, before crossing to the storage locker that was mounted on the side wall of the room. There was a simple medical kit inside and this he brought back with him to the table. Taking a cotton swab, he began to clean the scrapes and cuts on the back of her hands with the antiseptic. She winced a little.

"I apologise for you discomfort," he said, watching as her eyes drooped a little bit, before she forced herself awake, jumping a little and with a light gasp.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her words beginning to slur a little.

"You must believe me when I tell you that neither I, nor anyone here, intend harm to you, Lisstha," he said softly, catching her as she began to slump forward. Effortlessly he picked her up and carried her the short distance toward the metal framed bed at the side of the room. "In fact," he continued, "In time, I think you will come to understand that I, of all people, mean to nurture you completely."

_-mean to nurture you- -nurture you- -nurture-_

As he covered her with the blanket, he felt the hybrid that appeared at his shoulder.

"The area is prepared," the soldier told him, "and the cradle for the woman placed at the centre of it, as you have instructed."

Michael breathed out softly, and nodded. "We will allow her a few hours. If she is to be strong she will need to rest." For a long moment he closed his eyes, sighing softly, before he added, "As do I."

**

_-We're not that different, Teyla- -different, Teyla- -Teyla-_

_She wandered the same hallway, nothing to stop her, no one between her and the chamber door. A calling gripped her, a pulling, and she couldn't resist…_

_It was dark within, but for a pin point of light, a deep… dark red that pulsed as in a heartbeat. The heat enveloped her as soon as she crossed the threshold… a thick humidity that left her skin slickened, her body wanting…_

…_where are you…?_

_She turned around…first one way and then the other, peering into the darkness. She could feel him; almost hear him breathe…_

_-Don't… turn around- -Don't turn- -Don't-_

…_Michael…_

_She tried to turn her head to see him, suddenly filled with a spiralling need that pulled at the centre of her; stole her breath. Before she could move, he had wrapped her tightly, almost savagely, in his arms._

_-NO!-_

_His mental voice was a command._

…_Michael, please…_

_-You should not be here-_

…_why…?_

_-You are dreaming… rest- _

She sighed and tried to turn again, rolling to face the other way in the bed, her arm falling across her face, her skin covered in a light sheen of perspiration.

_She broke away from him then…turned… but as she turned, the scene changed… shifted… the lightless room spun around her to become the painful brightness, bathed in the sharp whiteness of lights from above._

_They held her, Ronon and Sheppard, as she writhed and twisted against the restraints in the infirmary on Atlantis. She growled at them… snarled and spat abuse… threatened to feed on them…_

_Suddenly the restraint around her right hand broke as she looked beyond the two of them, to see a third had joined her, standing so close to the foot of her bed, everything inside of him calling to her… wanting her… longing for her…_

…_Michael…!_

_She was fast… faster than the others… and thrust forward with her hand, caught him unawares and pulled him closer… he could take away her pain… all she had to do was feed…_

She made claws of her hands against the covers of her bed, her body tense… aching… as though in the grip of some terrible fever.

_Dizzy, the scene spun again… something hard was against her back, and a strong hand closed painfully around her wrist…_

_He moved and pressed her against the wall with the whole of him. His fingers grazed her wrist, and then passed over her palm to entwine with her own and hold her in place. His right hand pressed against her chest._

_Her breathing came in startled, terrified snatches, but all the same there was something primal, almost needful in the sensations travelling through her in that moment._

_"There are two possibilities from this point," he told her, capturing her eyes with his as he tilted his head, continuing in a whisper, "What are we…to do?"_

"Michael…" she whispered breathlessly.

_-You are dreaming… rest-_

She pressed her fingers against the top of her chest, where she could feel his touch…

_He was fast… faster than the others… and thrust forward with his hand, caught her unawares and pulled her closer… his golden eyes bore into her, his mind tearing into hers… Suddenly he threw back his head and roared in the most primal way…deeply animal, deeply needful… deeply sexual, and it made her ache for him…_

_Her own hand lashed forward, slapped hard against his chest, though whether to escape his touch, or to stay close to it, she did not know. Her mind reeled and she made a claw of her hand as the pain began – she cried out… snarled as they pulled her away from him._

_-…Queen!-_

_"No!" she fought with the orderlies that held her. "Carson, please…stop! You're killing him!"_

_"He's gotten inside her head! Someone get her the__** hell**__ out of here!" Beckett's voice sounded harsh above the Wraith's agonised cries._

"No… Carson, don't…" she gasped and turned her head from side to side… breathing in gasps, she fought against imaginary hands that held her.

_-Relax…rest- _

_Warm hands closed over the fists she had made of hers._

_-It's just a dream-_

_She let out a tremulous breath, and leaned back, resting her cheek against the warmth there… opening her hands beneath his. He slid his fingers over hers, between hers, entwining them…_

_Fire kindled inside of her, "Don't…" she whispered, pleading, "…please…"_

_-She will come for you-_

…_I don't care about her…_

_-You must!-_

…_But…_

_"Teyla, please… listen," he leaned down until he could rest the side of his face against her temple. "Listen to me, and if you never believe another word I utter, please… hear me. You. Must. Care."_

_The shock of him actually speaking to her in the dream made her turn suddenly in his arms, only to find nothing and no one there…_

"Why!" She cried out as she sat up, and could not stop the tears, "Why!"

_-Because I cannot- -I cannot- -cannot-_

"No!" she lashed out, fighting the hand that reached for her, tried to calm her, soothe her.

"Teyla… Teyla… it's all right… It's all right…" Raisa finally caught her arms and drew her close, holding her as she would have Chaya. "It's all right… it was just a dream."

Teyla shook her head. "I cannot stay here, Raisa – every moment I am here I put you and your child in danger – I have to leave."

"Teyla," Raisa cupped the Athosian woman's cheek in her hand and made her look into her eyes. "It is the dark of night. No one knows you are here. Please… rest."

**

Sheppard set his tray down, and looked at the exhaustion on the technician's face. He guessed she had just come off the night shift.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"Not at all, Colonel," she said, and then added, "though I can't guarantee I'll be good company."

"Long night?" Ronon asked, and settled on the other side of her, almost immediately starting to tuck into his breakfast. For a moment, Sheppard frowned at him, and then turned his attention to the technician again.

"Word has it that you're the 'go to' guy around here, Banks – it is Banks, isn't it?" he said.

"Yes, Sir," she frowned slightly. "Go to, Sir?"

"Say… if two people were looking to find Rodney?"

"Well… thing is, Sir – word isn't always terribly reliable," she said, starting to get up.

"Oh, come on, Banks, throw me a bone here." Sheppard gently, but firmly caught her wrist as she reached to pick up her tray. "He's out there, somewhere, without backup."

"I didn't see him—" she started, frowning in worry.

"Amelia," Ronon said, his mouth finally empty. "We wouldn't ask, only—"

"—but someone dialled my gate at Oh two fifty six," she leaned closer and added, "and while that someone turned off the alarm, they forgot to disable the log."

**

The Queen had spent much of the night pacing, and all Vega could recall of it was the constant waves of alternating curiosity, anger and jealousy. She wished she could understand what, or who it was kindled such feelings in the Queen, and why… and also why in God's name the Queen decided that she had to share it.

Vega moaned softly as she felt the touch of the summons from the Queen. She had barely slept. All night long she felt as though someone were smothering her with a feather pillow, and no matter which way she turned, she could not get comfortable. Her head pounded, as though an army of little men inside were mining for naquedah, and the whole of her body ached.

And yet… she had no choice but to answer, and to go to the Queen.


	2. Act 2

**Act 2**

The door stood open, still, as it had in their desperate rush to get Teyla to the Jumper and back to Atlantis. He shone his flashlight across the space between where he sheltered in the lea of a cooling tower and the door. He turned his head to take in the rest of the compound. In his mind he still saw the dark shape of the Puddle Jumper filling the large empty space to the side of the building; a limp and pallid Teyla held in Ronon's arms – the drops of blood on the floor…

"Come on, McKay, you can do this," he muttered to himself, and with a final look around, for though the compound still looked deserted he did not trust his impressions, he crossed the open space at a sprint, and held his gun so tightly his knuckles almost shone white in the beam from the flashlight.

He was doing this for Teyla, he reminded himself, as he stepped over the threshold and began to make his way toward the room where they'd found her. He shivered as the heavy metal door came into view and beyond, the rust-stained walls; took in a deep, steadying breath, and went inside, turning toward the window, before which he knew he would find him.

_"One of Michael's hybrids?" Sheppard asked as McKay called him over._

_"You could say that, but…" McKay reached out and carefully turned over the body. "…I don't think that's quite the point."_

_Sheppard sighed as he looked down on the man, and then glanced back toward Teyla, cradled in Ronon's arms._

_"We have to get her back, Rodney," Sheppard said, almost apologetically. "We can't risk bringing him as well. We don't know what Mi—"_

_"I know, I know," McKay said softly, "But at least can we," he shrugged a little, "find something to cover him."_

The rough woollen shroud still lay on the floor by the window, though why he should have expected otherwise, he did not know. He felt like a character from some horror movie, who would approach the corpse, only to have it sit up and reach to wrap its fingers around his throat; squeeze the life out of him. It was irrational. The only things he _really _had to fear were the microbes and bacteria that would be growing – thriving – on the decaying flesh.

He quickly set down the silver case on top of the workbench, trying not to notice the many surgical tools that still lay there, or the bloodied swabs… or the scurry of bugs as they hurried away from the intrusion on their feeding.

Opening the case he took out the protective clothing, the gloves and the mask, and began to dress himself for the task. He was realistic enough to know that, alone, he would not be able to bring the body back to Atlantis, but he meant to be certain he could collect what Jennifer needed to be able to alleviate his fears.

_"And what if it just confirms this?" She said, flicking the edge of the PCR in his left hand._

_"Well then… then…" he faltered, did he really want that? "At least we'd know… At least you'd have the answer for when she called you on it all being a lie!"_

**

In the bright light of the Laquoian morning, the fears of the night before seemed far from real, but the worries did not. If the Wraith _did_ come looking for her, then she would endanger her friend and she would not, under any circumstance, allow herself to do that.

They stopped in front of the gate, and Teyla lowered herself to one knee as she turned to face Chaya, smiling. She held out her hands and the girl happily slipped her own into the Athosian woman's warm grasp.

"You cared for me so well, Chaya," she said softly, "Promise me you will care for your mother just as well."

"I will, Teyla," the girl said, and for a moment fell quiet and lowered her head to meet gently with Teyla's. "Come back soon, Mama misses you."

"And I miss her," Teyla said, straightening up and playfully tapping the girl on the nose, still smiling. "One day – perhaps." Then she straightened up, the smile fading from her face as she came to her friend, and took the cloth bag from her shoulder.

They had been generous; had provisioned her with fresh clothes, food for her journey, had even found a weapon for her… it was crude, but it would be a defence where before she had none.

"Are you sure?" Raisa asked her quietly.

"I have never been more certain, my friend," she answered. "I will not be the one to bring danger to you and your ch—"

Her voice cracked and she could not finish the word. Thoughts of her own child in Michael's hands assaulted her. She heard his imagined cry, felt his fear and his pain. She jumped as Raisa's hand closed over her arm.

"You will find him, Teyla," her friend assured her, "And when you do, and bring the one responsible to justice—"

"Justice, in this galaxy, is strained, Raisa," she shook her head. "I want him back… I am empty without him."

"You will _find_ him."

She took a deep breath, and fixed a smile on her face, forced as it was. "Yes," she said with a sigh.

"Where will you go?" Raisa asked.

Teyla shook her head. "Better that you do not know," she answered, "Simply that I will visit the worlds on which my people have friends, and see what trail I can discover."

After sharing a fond farewell with her friend, she dialled the address of a starting point, and stepped into the wormhole to begin her journey.

**

McKay turned his head aside and lifted the corner of the blanket gingerly, already making a disgusted face even _before_ he had set eyes on the corpse. The smell of it was bad enough that he was almost loathe to look – sickly, sweet… putrid. With the back of his free hand pressing the mask closer over his mouth and nose – he could almost taste the decay if he did not – he took the courage that was lodged in his determination to help and suddenly threw back the blanket.

"McKay, what the hell are you doing?"

He let out the most feminine of cries and skittered backwards away from the now clearly visible corpse. The pale white flesh was colourised and peeling where the tissues had begun to rot away, even in the dryness of the atmosphere, beginning to swell. Wax-like, and frozen in the throws of whatever painful looking death had taken him, the pale orbs seemed to stare accusingly at him, where the head had toppled to one side.

"I said, what the h—"

"Sheppard," McKay tore his gaze away from Kanaan's body and squeaked out the man's name. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"What are you doing here?" Sheppard asked. He sounded irritated.

"Following up a lead, an investigation, something Keller needed for her research," he said. It wasn't exactly a lie. Perhaps stretching the truth a little, but it wasn't a lie. Then irritated himself, he said, "More's the point, what are _you_ doing here?"

"Ronon was worried about you," Sheppard told him, jerking his thumb toward the other man. "He heard you'd gone off world without backup, and like any good _team_ member, he came to report it to me."

"Banks," Rodney said with a sigh.

"Banks had nothing to do with it," Sheppard corrected him. "It was Zelenka, if you must know. Said something about you going off with some crazy talk about needing to do something to help Teyla."

"But Banks must have told you where I'd gone," McKay said.

"Matter of fact," Sheppard told him, frowning, "Banks denied being the 'go to' guy when I confronted her on it."

"So how—"

"You forgot to disable the log," Ronon growled. "Must be something really important to make you do something stupid like that."

"Yeah," Sheppard said, gesturing toward the corpse. "Isn't this a little… Doctor Frankenstein for you?"

McKay sighed, "I'm just here to collect a sample of Kanaan's DNA to help Keller with some of her research."

"All right," Sheppard said, "Better, but still a little too CSI."

"Look, if you really want to help, instead of standing there making up a list of Movies, and TV shows you can quote at me, why don't you and Ronon go and… take a look around, see if there's anything left that might… give us any kind of clue as to what Michael was _doing_ here."

"You mean besides holding Teyla prisoner and kidnapping her baby," Ronon snapped.

"All right," McKay raised his voice a little bit, "I know you're angry and upset about what's happened to the baby, I am too, we all are, but—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Sheppard interrupted, "Go look around… see if we can find anything."

McKay started to move back toward the body, muttering under his breath, "but right now that baby might be better off where it is."

"What did you say?" Sheppard turned around and walked backwards a couple of steps as he reached the doorway.

"Doesn't matter," McKay said in his usual curt manner. "Just… don't—"

"—touch anything, yes we know."

**

He ached. It was as though a hollow emptiness had seeped into every atom of his being, settled there as an acute reminder of everything; of every denial, every rejection, each betrayal more insidious than the last, and yet, still he burned with the hope – the need – for relief.

Rising quickly, as soon as the computer sounded the alert for the end of the simulation, Michael crossed to the workbench and reviewed the results. Scrolling quickly through the many screens of data, growing equally as irritated at this failure as he was relieved for the possibilities, he tilted his head tiredly from side to side. Although, it seemed, he had made progress in stabilizing the remaining residual weakening of the cell walls, the degradation remained.

However, in the pattern of the results, he believed he saw the key to finding the solution. He might yet be able to avoid the necessity for such a dangerous course of action as was currently his only option, provided his strike team returned with the materials he needed. Still, for now, he would need to continue with his course of treatment.

Sighing again, he unfastened the buckles on his leather tunic and shrugged of the heavy, armoured garment, to reveal the soft cotton shirt he wore beneath.

The surgical wound on his right biceps was seeping again where it should have long since healed, and the wound in his shoulder ached without mercy.

He growled in irritation, and as he heard the quiet footfalls behind him, and felt the arrival of the hybrid lieutenant, he snapped, "What do you want? You can see I'm working."

"You asked to be informed when the cruiser returned from the Wraith facility on the moon of the fourth planet in the Canai system."

Michael paused in tightening the restrictive band above his left elbow to tilt his head, and turning slightly, glanced at the hybrid. "They resisted?"

"No," the hybrid answered. "They were completely unprepared."

Michael snorted in contempt at the complacency of the Wraith. To leave such a facility vulnerable, unguarded at _any_ time was careless, but to do so under such circumstances as he had learned existed in that particular reproductive facility, at that time, was unforgivable. The Hive in attendance deserved everything that had happened to them. Still, one major concern assaulted him, and to remind himself that neither could he allow himself to become complacent, he pressed the needle into his vein and released the tourniquet slightly to allow the sample he was collecting to flow into the vial.

"You are certain that the Hive was unable to trace the bio-signature of our cruiser and follow?"

"No question," the hybrid confirmed and Michael breathed out, deep and long, letting out an almost satisfied growl of relief.

"You secured the prisoner?" He took the vial from the end of the syringe, turned it one way and then another, before setting into a holder and pushing a second vial into its place. This one he would have to work with immediately if the cells were to remain viable enough to sustain the growth necessary before the resulting organism could be placed into stasis.

"Yes. Placed away from the central core of our compound – chained as you ordered." the hybrid said.

"Good." Sighing with relief, Michael removed the vial and the needle from his arm. He agitated the blood sample he had just taken, before setting it into the centrifuge. "Do not allow anyone to have access to the building until I arrive. I must finish my work here first."

He saw the hybrid nod respectfully, and then dismissed him from his thoughts as he turned back to his experiment – and the manipulation necessary to correct his earlier, impatient mistake. Then he moved along the workbench and quickly prepared, and self administered, the injection.

**

It was late into the evening when Teyla arrived on the outskirts of the village, and the inhabitants should have been settling down for the night. There was a chill in the air and her breath condensed around her, a visual reminder of the long, forced march she had taken to arrive.

She frowned. The further into the village she walked, the more local inhabitants she saw, each hurrying to and fro, carrying cloth bags, and loading boxes onto badly constructed hand carts.

"Excuse me," she called out to one of the villagers. When he did not stop, she called out again, "Excuse me. I would like—"

"If you're looking for a trade, or a place to stay," a different man answered her, looking up from packing several things onto his own cart, "I'd suggest the inn, but the innkeeper left earlier today, and I don't imagine the others will be far behind him."

"Left?" she asked, both puzzled and worried. "Jayred has never left his inn, not in all the time I have known him."

"Aye, well," the man said, this time stopping to turn and frown at Teyla. "Maybe you don't know Jayred these days, or the things we have had to face."

"What kinds of things?" Teyla asked, the tone in her voice darkening.

"The villages of this world have been the focus of much attention from the Wraith," the villager told her. "This village has seen cullings twice in the last tenday."

"Twice?" Her frown deepened. "But that makes no sense."

"It does if you consider the first time they took only a handful of us," a newcomer's voice added, and Teyla turned to include him in the conversation. "Before they came back, that is. What you see now is all of us that are left. We will be lucky to reach the safety of our caves before they return again."

"Them or the others," the first man added.

"Others?" Teyla felt a thrill of nervous expectation travel through her.

"Came for trade, they said. Three of them," he told her, "Stayed at Jayred's inn two nights… except when morning came on the third day, they were gone, their beds not slept in."

"And so had many of the able bodied men… the youngest and fittest of us," the other one said, "We searched, didn't find anyone for a long time, not until we got to the Ring of the Ancestors… and then there was one… looked like he'd been in a fight - whoever they were, they made a real mess of him, so we were told."

"This man – does he still live?" she asked.

"Aye, he does, he's at the caves already, with some of the others." The villagers frowned, their eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Why is it so much of interest to you?"

"These 'others' you speak of," Teyla said, "I believe they are the same people I have been looking for. They may be able to lead me to the one that took my son."

"If your son was taken by them, they you'd be well advised to—"

She shook her head, already guessing what they were going to say.

"I cannot give up searching," she said, "My son is only a baby and he needs his mother." She paused a moment, to gather her fraying emotions, before she asked, "You think they will return."

"Them or the Wraith," one of the two men said, reversing what was said before.

"Then I should like to stay… and help your people move into the caves, in return for which I ask you to allow me to stay in one of your homes."

"But that's crazy talk," he answered, "if they come, they'll find you and—"

"—and I will make them tell me where I can find my son." she finished.

**

Michael took a deep breath as he stood ready to open the door and confront his latest prisoner. He knew what to expect, and knew it would not be a pleasant or an easy time, but still, in the hope of avoiding the necessity of a more unpleasant experience still, he would leave no avenue unexplored. Quickly, before he changed his mind, he opened the door and stepped inside.

As Queens went, she was not the most impressive he had seen. Shorter than most, what should have been her natural, bone white hair had been coloured in the brightest of reds, to match the blood coloured stain on her lips. Behind it all, she looked tired – drained. She would, he reminded himself, given where she had been, and what she had no doubt been doing. She was thinner than most as well, altogether lacking in presence; contemptible.

As soon as she saw him, she snarled viciously, and strained against the chains that bit cruelly into her wrists.

He allowed it for a moment before he commanded, "Enough!"

_-silence!-_

She snarled for a moment longer, vying with him mentally as he pushed his command on her, and resisted her own insistence that he release her.

"Let me explain what will happen," Michael began once she had quieted somewhat, "As long as you cooperate, you will be permitted to live. If you attempt to make contact with your Hive, or any other Wraith, I will know. If you attempt to gain control of any of your guards; of my soldiers, I will know. If you, in any way, attempt to subvert my intentions for you, your life is forfeit, and believe me, over the years I have had much time to perfect the art of destroying Wraith… and I do not _need_ you alive, in order to carry out my plan."

"Then why _am_ I still alive," she demanded finally.

Michael chuckled, "Why waste resources, preserving what already preserves itself, until it is needed." As he spoke, a hybrid appeared at his shoulder, carrying a small metal tray. On the tray were arrayed a number of surgical instruments.

The chuckle faded from Michael's voice, as did the mild, patient expression on his face, as the Queen challenged him, "You would not _dare_!"

"How little you know me," he tilted his head to regard the Queen. His hands became fists at his side as he fought the part of him that was still Wraith, the part of him that naturally responded to the presence of such a one, the part of him that the Lanteans had all but murdered… he growled angrily. "Now… let us begin."

**

"Teyla," Jayred smiled and came to clasp her hands tightly in his, before lowering his head to meet hers in proper greeting. "It is good to see you. Are your friends with you?"

She fixed a smile onto her face as the thought of Sheppard and the others, and all that had passed between them, flooded into her, threatening to sour the meeting with Jayred. "No," she said. "I come alone."

"A pity," he answered, "We would have much use for their assistance."

"Perhaps not always the wisest course," she said, fighting to keep the smile in place.

"Teyla?" Jayred frowned. "Has something happened between you?"

"There has been a misunderstanding," she held up both her hands to forestall his interruption, "for which I am seeking answers and that is why I am here. Jayred, there is a man I need to speak to. He was taken by those that stayed in your inn, but escaped."

"Raehn?" Jayred said, "I am sorry, Teyla, but the remaining elders have decreed that none may see him, he—"

"Please, it is important. He may be the key to help me find my s—" Her eyes narrowed, and she took a sudden breath. "Where are your people," she asked urgently.

"Teyla?"

"Your people, Jayred, how many of them are already in these caves?"

He frowned in confusion, "Almost all of them," he said, "Why?"

"There are Wraith outside," she answered.

"They are looking for me," a new voice answered.

She turned, and as she set eyes on him the blood in her veins froze, and then boiled in the next instant. Before she could check her motion she flew at him, grabbing for the knife she carried concealed in her boot.

He blocked slowly, receiving a deep gash to his forearm, and instantly began to back away with each strike she made, defending as best he could. He was no match for the angry Athosian woman, and soon Teyla had him pinned to the rear wall of the cave, her knife at his throat.

"Where is he?" she snarled into the man's hybrid face, before the villagers managed to overwhelm her and pull her away from him. "Where has he taken my son!"

**

Michael paused in front of the door to check that all of the remaining particles had been properly neutralised, and then checked a second time. He knew he was tired and must not allow himself to make mistakes because of it. When he was sure the spore was no longer present, airborne in the room, he keyed the code to unlock the door.

"Why do you keep the door locked," she demanded as he stepped inside. Her tone was harsh, her face showed half way between angry and afraid. A knot twisted in his belly as memory came unbidden to his weary mind.

_"I have been told you wanted to see me?" he said, and waited back a little way from the bars of the holding cell as she carefully sat up, and got to her feet. One hand, he noticed, came immediately to rest against the curve of her belly. With the other she gripped the bars as she stepped up to them._

_"Yes… Michael," she said, her tone was clipped and he inwardly cringed from it._

_"Well," he said and spread his arms to either side, "Here I am."_

_He watched as she took a breath, felt her forcing stillness on her mind. He tilted his head curiously, though kept the frown from his face._

_"Why are you keeping me here?" she asked, and this time the frown did show on his face. He would have thought it was obvious. He was about to tell her as much when she explained, "We are aboard your cruiser, and unless I am mistaken, are in hyperspace—"_

_His expression softened, and hope swelled inside of him. Already she was sensing the ship, beginning to read the nuances of its operation._

_"Where would I go?" she threw her arms up to either side of her, and stood regarding him fiercely._

_He lifted his head a little, looked into her eyes, considering all that she said. There were still places that could present a danger to her – and to the ship, should she try hard enough – but… she was, at least in some ways, justified in asking the question, and the small cell was hardly a fitting place for an expectant mother, let alone the mother of this most awaited child._

_He sent out mental instructions to some of his men to prepare quarters for her, fill them with the softest blankets, fresh fruit and water. In the next moment he stepped forward and activated the door release, but as he took another step closer, she took a step back, a small, startled expression on her face._

_Instantly he stopped moving, swallowed hard and looked down, and then away. "Go where you wish," he said softly, trying to keep the sorrow from his voice. "I will prepare quarters for you."_

He sighed.

"You must forgive me," he said. "There are still many places within this facility that could present a danger for you."

"But—"

He crossed the room to stand in front of her, "We are preparing a place for you that I hope will be more comfortable," he tipped his head, "more appropriate. Perhaps you would like to see."

She blinked at him as though surprised, but the surprise soon dissolved into a fearful, mistrustful expression, "Oh, I—"

"Come now, Lisstha, have I yet harmed you?" he refused to let her unsettle him further, pushed aside the bubbling memory, and the resulting, painful twist in his chest, and said, "Or have you been shown… consideration?"

In answer to him she held out her hand, where the scar still puckered there, in spite of his care in tending to it. "You cut me."

"An unfortunate necessity, as I explained at the time," he said.

"_I told you… because of the interference of your friends, we must make another hyperspace jump, and I will not allow the subspace radiation to harm him."_

"Yes, but—"

"And have I not done everything possible to ensure it heals well?" he continued, without giving her much time to argue again. "Please," he added with as much of his inherent charisma as he could muster, "it would make a pleasant change from the constant pressures of work, and give you the freshness of the outside in your lungs."

"I should," she began, faltering slightly, "I should like that."

"Then," he said and reached down to guide her to her feet. He noted that she was a little unsteady, and even through the blouse, could feel the temperature of her body was elevated. "Come."

**

She struggled with them as they held her against the makeshift table. "You do not understand. You cannot trust this man," she told them. "He has been taken from you and turned into a hybrid creature, part Wraith, and part Human, by someone called Michael."

"I have heard you speak that name before, Teyla," Jayred said, with a frown, "But you said—"

"I told you of the creatures he was creating, yes, but this… this is different." She snatched her arms from those that were holding her, and straightened herself up. "He has found a way to—" she stopped, and turned her gaze back toward Raehn.

"To what, Teyla," he asked softly.

Ignoring him, she turned to Jayred, "What about the men that were staying at your inn, Jayred? Where did they come from?"

"I'm not certain I recall," the innkeeper answered. "Orsebbe, I believe."

"With the… ringed moons?" she asked. An image came into her mind, and a feeling of strange discomfort… For a moment her eyes ceased to see the hybrid soldier standing in front of her…

_"Beautiful, isn't it?"_

_She stiffened as Michael's voice came from behind her, and his quiet footfalls approached. He stopped a little way from her but she could still feel the warmth of him against her back. She wanted to deny that it was beautiful; wanted to find some comment she could make that would push away the undeniable connection she felt, as they stood together, watching the rotation of the moons from the portal of the cruiser, and the way that the rings almost, but did not quite, intersect… but she could not._

_"Another stop to allow for recovery from the journey in hyperspace?" she asked. It was the best she could manage._

_"I had hoped that you would—" he seemed to hesitate, and when he began again, his voice was softer, somehow warmer. "I had hoped that you would—"_

Teyla frowned as the feelings began to dissolve and the memories blur, but she was left with the impression that he had deliberately stopped in that place, specifically so that _she_ could enjoy the view that he too thought was beautiful.

She shivered a little, uncertain of how to feel about that and looked up at Raehn again. He was staring at her.

"Where is he?" she demanded again. "Where were those others taking you?"

**

He tried to remember to slow his steps so that the woman could keep up with him, reaching toward her mind, trying to find that part of her that he knew would be developing, harboured there, an inner consciousness waiting to be unleashed.

"What…" she hurried a few steps to try and catch up to him, and he felt her reaching for his arm. "What _is_ this place?"

_"Just another dead world, destroyed by the Wraith, abandoned by the survivors, forgotten by both. A perfect place to conduct my work."_

He took a deep breath as memory flooded through him again, slowed his pace still further and half turned to face Lisstha.

"The people of this world were destroyed during the war between the Wraith and the Ancients," he explained softly, almost absently watching the way the breeze stirred her hair. He tilted his head to one side, and without conscious guidance, his eyes lifted to gaze toward the horizon, seeing the brightness of a flash that had sent a stab of intense pain through his sensitive Wraith eyes, and the ensuing cloud of dust that began to lift toward the atmosphere… but only in his memory. Feeling the agony flood through his heart at his Queen's anguished warning in the instant before the Dart's beam swept over him…

"What happened?"

At the sound of the girl's voice he almost started, and his eyes snapped back to look at her. He took a hurried, snatched breath, and let it out slowly, as a sigh.

"Their portal – what you know as the Ancestor's Ring – was flooded with radiation from subspace interfe—" he stopped when he saw the uncomprehending expression on her face, though no less interest or concern. Taking another breath, he said, "Energy from inside the pool you see when the Ring is active. The portal exploded."

"Killing everyone?" She sounded horrified.

"Not _quite_ everyone," he said, letting out another long, slow breath.

"Some survived?" she asked, and ran the back of her hand across her brow. He noticed that it trembled slightly. "How do you _know_ all this?"

His barely voiced sigh became a light growl as he stepped toward her. "Because I was here…"

**

"McKay!" Sheppard called as the scientist started to take off almost as soon as the Jumper touched down in the bay. "Wait!"

He stopped with a sigh, "Look, Sheppard," he said patiently, "If I don't get this stuff to Keller, then it's going to have been an entire wasted trip I risked my—"

"No one asked you to go," Sheppard reminded him. "In fact, as I recall, Woolsey distinctly restricted Gate travel to essential and official missions only."

"Look, I _told you_," he said, "Doctor Keller needs this tissue, this DNA, for her research."

"Why?"

"Because," he said, thinking on his feet. He didn't want to lie to Sheppard, but right at that moment he didn't want to tell the truth either – not until he was entirely sure it _was_ the truth and not just some terrible misreading of the PCR results. "Because at some stage, when we find Teyla and give her _time_ to recover, she's going to want answers. She's going to want to know why Michael was so fixated on her baby – what was so important about him."

"Hmm," Sheppard said, and McKay could hear the disbelief in his voice.

"Look," he said, frowning, "I just wanted to be able to do something to help Teyla. I can't be out there shooting the shit out of the Wraith, or kicking Michael's ass, or any of the other things that you guys do. I'm a scientist. I just wanted to do my part."

"You really think this stuff can tell you that?" Sheppard gestured to the silver case in Rodney's hands.

"Yes," McKay nodded, "I do."

"All right, just," Sheppard sighed, "Next time _tell _me, Rodney. You don't need to shut me out."

"There's no _way_ Woolsey would have authorised—"

"I didn't say anything about Woolsey," Sheppard interrupted. "In fact, to hell with Woolsey. This is about Teyla – helping Teyla. Whatever it is that Michael did to her, isn't going to last forever, and when it's over she's going to need her friends. We have to stick together, McKay. We can't let Woolsey and his officious paranoia divide us. All right?"

McKay looked between the Colonel and the former runner who was standing nearby. Ronon's arms were folded and his face was the epitome of thunder. McKay had only seen that kind of murderous look on Ronon's face when he was dealing with Michael. Even a small victory against Michael, like giving Teyla the truth, would be enough, he hoped, to take some of the ire out of Ronon's expression. He sighed, as he realised he was falling pray to his own lies, because he wasn't sure that this particular truth would be anything other than a victory for the Wraith-Human hybrid.

"All right," he said quietly, and before either man could say another word he set off to take the samples to Jennifer.

**

Rest would not come to him. His mind was haunted by visions of the hideous mutations his serum had forced on the hybrid test subject, and he could not help but shiver again as he lay on his cot… nagging at the edges of the problem, seeing ribosome and chromosome fragments floating before his closed eyes.

_"If the full solution still evades you, break the problem down into its component parts and solve each step as a separate entity."_

He growled as the memory came to mock him… the scientist that the Renegade had once been speaking to him as though he were still an untested, mewling child.

Throwing back his blanket, he climbed to his feet and began to pad across the width of his quarters, stiff from lack of rest, frustrated from lack of success, in need of some small relief from both.

He paused in his pacing, and tilted his head as he felt the nuance of the Hive change around him. They were preparing to engage the hyperdrive. He could not help but tense still further, in spite of his conscious effort not to do so, as another memory surfaced to the front of his mind.

_He stood at the console, beside his Queen, both frowning in consternation at the anomalous energy readings their sensors were detecting from the planet, from the vicinity of the Portal._

_*display the planet*_

_She had barely finished the thought before the main screen activated to show the blue and green world. Barely a moment after, a bright flash from the surface engulfed almost the entirety of one side of the planet._

_The Queen's consternation turned to concern, and then alarm as the sensors continued to supply them with troubling readings._

_~recall the Darts~_

_He did not wait for her to give the order. As her Commander, he too must see to the safety of the Hive, and of his Queen._

_~as soon as they are aboard, we must make the jump to hyperspace – return to our feeding grounds~_

_He began to turn from the screen to attend his Queen… but a sudden flood of distress and fear made him turn back. He was in time to see the Dart, out of control and hurtling toward the Hive. If it made the bay there would be no way it would stop in time to avoid a fatal collision with the interior bulkhead._

_~Brace for impact!~_

_He stepped closer to his Queen, within reach, should she need his strength to steady her, and only a moment later the deck rocked violently, shuddering in the wake of the explosion. A slight change in the Queen's breathing told him that she too felt the damage to the Hive._

_"The Scientist!" she hissed… following with a mental command for her commander to bring him to her…if he still lived._

_*Hyperspace!*_

_~the other Darts~_

_*We can no longer wait for them*_

_He did not like the order, but she had given it and he would obey. He nodded curtly to the Wraith at the helm and then left the bridge in search of the scientist…_

He had found the Scientist. More accurately he had all but run into him in the Hive's main drive chamber… frantic – almost raving with a fearful madness that he had not, before the event, understood.

He let out another growling sigh. What good such dark memories serve… if he could find no rest, then it was unlikely that he would achieve much success in his work. He picked up his heavy leather coat, for he would not leave the safety of his quarters without its protection, and extended his pacing to include the corridors of the Hive.

**

Keller looked up from the microscope as McKay walked in. She frowned when he beckoned her over to a more private area of the lab.

"Rodney, what did you do?" she asked suspiciously.

"I got you those samples I was talking about."

She grabbed his arm and dragged him further into the corner of the room. "You brought his body _here_?"

"No," he wriggled uncomfortably and rubbed his arm where she had pinched his skin, "No, not all of it, just…"

"For God's sake, Rodney!" Keller looked around as though she thought the samples would, at any minute, leap up and attack the two of them. McKay held up the case he was carrying. "Did anyone see you?"

"By anyone, you mean Woolsey, right?" McKay asked.

"No, I mean _anyone._" She took the case from him and put it on the workbench nearby where they were standing, thought she made no attempt to open it.

"Sheppard and Ronon—"

"Rodney!" she yelped at him, once again looking around as though Colonel Sheppard and Ronon were about to come storming into the infirmary and demand to be told what was going on. "I told you that I didn't think this was a good idea, and now—"

"They came to _find_ me, Jennifer, what was I supposed to say?" he added as he saw the look on her face. "They're our friends and they're Teyla's friends too. It's all right. I told them you needed it for research so that you could tell Teyla why Michael is so obsessed with her baby."

"Isn't that a li—?"

"NO!" he raised his voice, and she jumped. He took a breath then, and continued more quietly, "That's why I need you to run these."

Keller sighed, "All right, Rodney, I'll do the analysis, but… I really don't think you're going to like the answers. Why should it be any different than we already know?"

"She wou— I mean…" he ran his fingers through his hair. "This is _Teyla_ we're talking about."

"No, Rodney," she said solemnly, and with a hint of anger, "this is _Michael _we're talking about. He could have done _anything_… any kind of manipulation, mutation… You've seen what he did to Lorne… Kanaan… the other Athosians… why not— just…" she took a breath to try and calm herself. "Let me run the tests."

McKay gladly pushed the silver case in her direction again.

**

_The moment he could again feel his wholeness, the desperate pain of loss flooded through him. It was as though everything in his mind had turned to darkness and yet it bordered on sentiment._

_He felt her then, as he had not in centuries – not since she sent him to the other – and he knew without a doubt that the emotion was hers and was a warning._

_=hyperspace – danger! Stop the Hive or perish!=_

_In the mere heartbeat it took for him to understand, he gathered his breath and then threw himself into a sprint toward the drive chamber, pursued by the fireball that was the wreckage of the out of control Dart that had brought him aboard. There was neither any point, nor any time, to warn the Hive Commander, irritating and stubborn individual at best, dangerous and subversive otherwise. He would have to take direct action and hope that circumstances would mitigate in his favour._

_By then he had reached the main drive and could see the Commander hurrying into the chamber._

_"The Queen—"_

_He barely heard the words and took little notice. Primary allegiances held within him, only strengthened by his instinct to survive. He already held his weapon in his hand, so quickly he slid the setting to maximum and took aim at the most vulnerable part of the drive generator, even as it began to power up._

_The shock of the stun beam raced through his body, a burning heat that disrupted his heartbeat and blurred his vision. He expected it, and growling, pushed aside everything but the concentration and focus to pull the trigger._

_The resulting explosion, which cascaded from the dying unit, bathed him in the wrath of the flames that screamed forth. He barely had time to turn aside._

A slight whimper drew him back to the present. No Darts would pluck him from this place now, at the behest of the Queen, forced or otherwise – the cruisers in orbit were his own, and the barren crater that had once been the site of this planet's portal remained just that… barren.

He turned his head toward Lisstha, and saw that she looked at him in confusion. Her bewilderment gave way to fear, and then to mounting horror. "You can't have been here then," she began, "No one can—"

Her voice broke off and she stumbled. A look of pain crossed her face.

Michael tilted his head as he stopped walking and swept a cool gaze over her. She was breathing quickly, a slight whimper in the back of her throat.

"Wraith do," he said, his voice losing the warmth and intonation of before. He took a breath. He needed to tread gently with this one.

"But you're n—" This time she let out an audible half cry, and folded in on herself a little. Curious, he watched for a moment, head still tipped to one side. Waiting. "Please, what's happening? It hur—"

Finally he stepped forward, slipped his hand supportively beneath her elbow, and said pragmatically, "The process is much less traumatic if you try not to resist."

"You—" she took a gasping breath and tried to pull away from his now restraining grasp. "You did this?"

_"It was _you_…You're the one responsible for spreading the Hoffan drug."_

She had looked at him with the same horrified surprise as this woman now did. It twisted a knot inside of him at the remembrance of it, even though he had expected it would be her response. He sighed and tried to push the thoughts of Teyla to the back of his mind; time enough yet to once more ensure her safety.

"It was necessary in order to complete my work," he told Lisstha finally.

When he let go of her she stumbled backwards into the waiting arms of his summoned hybrids.

"Take her to the cradle," he told them. "We must begin."

**

They had allowed her to stay in the caves as long as she had promised to keep away from Raehn. It had been a grudging acceptance of their interdiction, because, as tired as she was, she did not relish the thought of fighting the Wraith, and that was the alternative – to fight her way through the Wraith to the Stargate, and find another place to pick up the thread.

She had glowered in frustration for a long time before the angry disappointment turned to exhaustion, and she finally accepted the blanket that Jayred brought to her, and found a relatively private corner in which to curl up. It had not taken long for her to fall asleep.

Still her sleep was troubled. She rolled first one way, and then another, moving her hand as if flailing out – as if fighting…

_The hybrid's face floated before her, and she flew at him. "Where is he!" her voice squeaked with the emotion, the desperation with which she wanted him to tell her where to find Michael. "Where is my son!"_

_She made another grab for him, reaching for his face with her fingernails, but hands closed around her arm and pulled her away. Held her away even as his features blurred… became more familiar, and yet, so very alien to her._

_"Teyla…"_

_"Kanaan?"_

She moaned, whispering his name in her sleep, the same troubled, questioning tone on her lips as flowed through her in the dream…

_As if in the haze of heat from a great desert the room around them shifted… arms no longer held her. The dark, rust stained walls loomed over her – the chill from the broken window seeped into her already aching muscles, and she was no longer held._

_She hurried to him as quickly as she could, her belly sending painful cramps through her body, almost stealing the strength from her legs. She sank heavily beside him, reached for him as his body began to strain for breath._

_"Kanaan, no…" she moaned, "you can't…"_

_"Teyla," he gasped, his voice bubbling as though his lungs were filled with treacle. "Don't… don't…"_

_"Do not try to speak," she told him, and then turning her head she called over her shoulder, a desperate cry. "Help!"_

_Kanaan's fingers gripped her arm. "No," he said, "listen… Don't… don't worry… about ou— about the… child…"_

_"Sshh," she tried to soothe him. "Please, Kanaan, save your strength. Our child—"_

_Gripping her as tightly as his failing strength would allow, he shook his head. "In… time," he took another bubbling breath, "…you… you will come… to realise—"_

_"Teyla," Michael's urgent cry made her turn her head so quickly that she almost overbalanced. "Move away from him. Now!"_

_"What did you _do_ to him!"_

_Ignoring the pain, her centre of balance still unsteady from the birth, she threw herself toward him, lashing out. Easily he caught her, spun her around and held her tightly, struggling against him, restrained so that she could not hurt herself._

She struggled, pushed against imaginary, restraining arms, and yet a part of her craved the contact, the touch, the closeness…

_"In time…" Kanaan's words whispered over her, "…you will come… to realise…"_

_The feeling dissolved, she was no longer held, no longer restrained but swaddled in the softest blanket, exhausted and sore, but still she tried to move._

_"Michael," she tried to rise, but was flooded by a wave of tiredness… weakness. "Michael, please…!"_

…_where is my son – my child…?_

_"Let me see him," she pleaded._

_"I do not think that is wise," he told her, almost with a note of regret in his voice for just a moment, before he continued more firmly, "It is better that you do not."_

…_where _is_ he…?_

_"Rest," he told her quietly, "The birth has been hard on you."_

_He started to move away, but she reached out and weakly caught him by the wrist, "Please… my son…?"_

_"Healthy," he smiled faintly and glanced from her to the opposite side of the room, "and resting as you should be."_

…_Michael…!_

_He stood then and turned from her to cross the room and, from a small chamber there, picked up the wrapped and swaddled baby, before heading for the door._

She reached out, calling out… little more than a desperate murmur in her sleep…

_There was little warning… only a small, buzzing sound filled the air before the window pane exploded inward, shattered to impale Kanaan with shards of glass, and the faint crackle of energy – as from a Wraith stunner – fizzled around him from the small dart-like object embedded in the side of his neck._

_"Kanaan, no…"_

_She threw off the blanket and crossed the room as quickly as she could. Her belly sent painful cramps through her body, almost stealing the strength from her legs. She all but fell beside him, reached for him as his body began to strain for breath._

_"Please, Kanaan, save your strength. Our child—"_

_Gripping her as tightly as his failing strength would allow, he shook his head. "In… time," he took another bubbling breath, "…you… you will come… to realise—"_

Pain flooded her heart… he was gone… nothing could bring him back. All the time, and those moments shared as they lived, and grew together from almost carefree children, to awkward young adults, into their strengths as leaders… gone… murdered in a single, simple shared moment…

_A moment of sickening dizziness resolved into the natural warmth of the roundhouse, Kanaan's home… her belly fluttered with uncertainty that quickened her breath._

_"Why… why have you never—" she started, but could not finish. She took several breaths before she began again, "Kanaan, we have been friends since we were children. Why has this never surfaced between us before?"_

_"Teyla, does it matter?" he reached for her and she leaned backward a little, out of his reach._

_"Yes."_

_"I was a fool that did not realise his own heart," he reached for her again, sliding his fingers into her hair – leaning closer. The fluttering inside of her reached an almost overwhelming crescendo and only half serious she pushed him away, but she burned with the need for contact – to feel that intimacy…_

…_their playful game of rough and tumble ended against the pillows of his bed. She laughed softly as he held her down._

_"Surrender," he said quietly, sensually, almost a whisper._

_"Never," she chuckled, and gasped softly as he slipped his left hand into hers, entwining their fingers against the pillows. His right hand that held her playfully, pressed against her chest._

_A knot of fearful excitement twitched inside of her, stealing her breathing, filling her with the scent of him, clean and musk together as he pressed closer to her. She closed her eyes and reached up with her free hand to run her fingers into his hair._

_"I want you, Teyla," the two tones in his voice mingled to kindle an equality of desire that consumed her; burned within her. "My—"_

_"Michael," she whispered, opening her eyes, feeling the touch of his mind in hers, and the words not spoken; meeting the desire she saw in his golden orbs with her own burning need._

_His lips found hers, and she parted them as he deepened the kiss, almost savage in its primal need. She moaned… longing for touch… the deeply buried need of it surfacing, rushing through her blood and almost drowning her in it as she opened to his touch and he pressed against her, his touch moving over her, his hand coming to rest once more against the sensitive, tingling flesh of her chest._

_Breaking the kiss, the Wraith he was towered over her "There are two possibilities from this point," he told her, capturing her eyes with his as he tilted his head, continuing in a whisper, "What are we…to do?"_

…_Michael…_

_-Teyla, get away. Leave now!-_

A hand grabbed her shoulder, to shake her as the urgency of the mental warning already woke her. She lashed out, taking the hybrid beneath the chin with her fist, sending him sprawling backwards.

"Teyla," Raehn gasped urgently, "We have to leave, now. There's no more time."

"I am going _nowhere_ with you," she growled at him, trembling as she remembered the dream; felt the need still inside of her, her arousal still strong – undeniable. She fought to control her breathing that came in snatches, almost panting. How could she? What had he _done_ to her!

"If you want to live to see your son, you will come with me – now!" Raehn's voice sounded hard, calculating, the warmth and urgency gone.

She focussed her eyes on him again, to find herself staring at the weapon he was pointing in her direction.

**

"Ah, there you are, McKay," Woolsey's voice floated across the cafeteria, and McKay tried very hard not to groan. The man had caught up to him. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were avoiding me."

"No," McKay said hurriedly around a forkful of mashed potatoes. "I've just been… busy, that's all."

"So I understand," Woolsey said. "Doctor Zelenka said something about you being off world, working on something by yourself. I don't need to remind you—"

"I was on M4G-584 with the science team that was trying to gather information from what's left of Michael's facility there. I went back to the gate to download the buffer – see if I could figure out where Teyla went." It wasn't a lie, but neither was it the whole truth.

"I see," Woolsey said, nodding, and McKay felt a certain degree of relief spreading through him as he realised that, in his acceptance of the half truth, Woolsey revealed he knew nothing of his more covert mission on M7S-445. "Well, when you have a minute, I wonder if you could take a look at my computer. I'm having trouble interfacing with the city's main systems, and I have a report that I must get to Stargate Command that I can't write without access."

"Trouble in paradise?" McKay asked, reading the look on Woolsey's face, and using the sarcasm to mask his own involvement in the failure of Woolsey's interface.

"Nothing I can't handle," Woolsey said, "As long as I can access the city's systems."

McKay nodded, "I'll see what I can do."

"As soon as possible, please, Doctor." Woolsey nodded curtly and began to move away. McKay sighed with relief, then tensed as the base commander turned back. "Oh, and Doctor?"

"Hmm?" he said, picking up his glass, which trembled slightly in his hand.

"I'd like to see yours and Doctor Keller's report on your findings concerning the Wraith DNA, please."

Perhaps he did suspect after all.

"It's next on my list," he said, "after your computer, of course."

**

He grabbed her arm and pushed her against the trunk of a tree, the weapon in his hand didn't waver. They were barely a sprint away from achieving the Gate, when the Wraith guards came into view.

Overhead the darts were flying a crossing formation, firing devastating barrages against everything in their path, no doubt angered by the disappearance of their prey into the caves. It was a pattern she had seen on many worlds… worlds that threatened them… but what threat was here?

She could not help but look at Raehn… the determination on his hybrid face. For a moment she half closed her eyes, and reached toward him with her mind, trying to connect to the Wraith part of him extant now. What did he know that she did not?

"Don't!" he pressed the weapon against her ribs and the consternation at finding the Wraith guards at the Gate turned into a calculating warning on his face against her trying anything against him.

The memory came without warning, and cut her heart in two.

_Kanaan stood looking at her, hands by his side, and in one of them he held a weapon. "…please, there's much you don't understand… you must listen to him—"_

_"Kanaan—?" she started, but her voice cracked and stopped the rest of the sentence before it began._

_"—You must go with him," Kanaan continued._

_Michael took another step toward her, and with nowhere to go, she started to raise her hands, meaning to fend him off._

_"We don't have time for this," he told her, suddenly reaching forward._

_"No, I will not—"_

_A fleeting, burning pain… heat began somewhere in her chest as the rhythm of her heart faltered. It spread outwards through all of her limbs, draining her strength. She managed to turn her head toward a sound she had barely registered – high pitched and harsh. Kanaan still stood with his weapon raised, and pointed in her direction._

_"No… Kanaan," she whispered, and the blue lights of the cruiser began to darken around her._

She had reached for Michael then. She knew she had, though she did not know how. Michael had caught her hand, guided it to his shoulder and sheltered her in his arms. His embrace had been supportive and strong as he had lowered her gently to the deck and he did not let go of her – protecting her from the one man she thought would never hurt her. The confusion, the betrayal, and the self doubt she suddenly felt was overwhelming. She couldn't think; didn't know which way to turn – what to do – and so she decided on the only path that was open to her.

"We must leave," Raehn said, "take the Portal, and that means getting past the Wraith."

"Yes," she said, taking several sudden breaths, and before she could change her mind, added, "And if you promise to take me to Michael, I will not resist you. I will help you win this fight against the Wraith."

**

His feet almost dragged… Weary, he carefully set the wrapped bundle down into the little chamber beside the workbench. His head ached. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. Something had to give… and soon.

Ignoring the small, mewling protests the child made at the movement from one place to another, Michael activated the scanner to ensure the boy's health after the procedure. He breathed out slowly when the readings from the computer all confirmed that nothing was amiss.

For many long moments he stood, looking down at the child… examining his soft features; the deep blue eyes, and the barely noticeable flecks of gold within… a sudden, consuming feeling, a smouldering anger, jealousy flared within him.

_A playful striving… each against the other…before he overwhelmed her, pressed her against the pillows of the soft bed. She laughed as he held her down… the delight in her eyes turning to desire as he slipped his hand into hers… clasping their hands with their fingers entwined…_

A low growl began in the back of his throat, as he banished the thought… the memory, and with purpose moved to his equipment further down the bench – away from the child – away from the culmination of _years_ of his work.

Yet – he glanced back the way he had come – all might still come to ruin if he could not find the key to solving the insidious cellular breakdown that harried him. He called up the latest results and studied them carefully.

His breathing deepened as he read, his nostrils flaring. His mood darkened still further as the images, and the computer simulation reached its end. Blinded by anger, he snatched up the nearest vial and turning, threw it at the wall with a frustrated, growling cry at his own, stupid mistake that had exacerbated the problem.

This had been his last hope… his _only_ hope to avoid the one course of action he feared… there was only one thing he feared more… unbidden, he reached out...

_In front of her, the Wraith lashed out, her hand moved, blurring in front of her, blocking – fighting… _

Through their connection he widened his senses; saw the danger behind her, which she hadn't seen, and tried to send a warning, and an urgent call for action to the hybrid. He felt his mind touch hers and called her name.

**

_-Teyla!-_

At the warning she turned. On instinct she threw up her arm, deflecting the blade that was coming down, aimed at the middle of her back, and on the momentum of the turn, almost rolled around the Wraith to come behind him, push him into the path of his fellow warrior to give her time to recover her balance.

Raehn turned his head and his weapon toward the fight and fired a shot that narrowly missed Teyla's shoulder, but which took down the Wraith none the less. She did not hesitate, but launched herself for the remaining Wraith.

"Dial!" she told Raehn.

She came in low at the Wraith warrior, bringing her knee up toward his middle, at the same time punching hard against his arm as she caught his wrist that held the knife. The Wraith shifted his balance, and caught her unawares and the two of them fell, tumbling together in a tangle of limbs.

"Teyla!" Raehn's shout echoed the frightened cry inside of her. She scrambled for control of the knife; to keep away from the Wraith's grasp; to banish the sudden panic she felt.

"Dial!" she ordered again, grabbing the one coherent strand of thought, still in her mind, and this time heard him begin.

In the midst of her desperate struggle she got a hand to the hilt of the knife, still gripped in the Wraith's hand, straining with all of her strength she turned the hand that held it. She had to free herself; had to kill the Wraith warrior before he could feed on her, as he was trying to reach her; to get his hand to her chest. She forced all her strength, all of her concentration, on her fight for the knife until, with a sudden audible crack, the Wraith's wrist snapped and released the short blade into her hand. She did not hesitate, did not even pull back her hand, simply plunged the knife deep into the Wraith's throat, and rolled aside. She all but jumped quickly to her feet, looking around for any other dangers; any other Wraith.

It had been a messy fight, not one of her best, but she was tired and so in need of rest. It was not until she noticed that the symbols had stopped lighting on the Gate that she realised something was wrong, that Raehn had stopped dialling and was slumped over the DHD.

"Raehn?" she reached for him, but as she touched him, he toppled sideways, already dead, the side of him she could not see became visible as a smoking ruin. Gasping she turned around, looking for the source… the cause.

The Wraith, a hunter, walked slowly toward her, carrying his weapon, arm outstretched, head barely tilted to one side.

"You fight well, woman," he hissed.

Teyla glanced between the Wraith and the DHD, at the symbols still lit, awaiting the final one and the point of origin to complete the dialling sequence. She stood as still as she dared, her mind racing… fighting through the tiredness that had followed hard on the heels of the fight, for an address – anything that could complete the one already partially stored.

"Fight _me_!" the hunter said, and tossed his gun to one side, starting to run toward her.

"I do not think so," she told him, lifting her chin. It took every bit of strength she possessed to stand her ground as she reached over to the DHD, and completed the sequence. "Not today."

The forming wormhole swept out from the circle of the gate, reducing the careless and unsuspecting Wraith to nothing.

**

It was a part of the hive he had not explored before, but which was strangely familiar. Todd paused, frowning, trying to figure out why. It was a welcome distraction for trying to work out what he was doing wrong in respect of the hybrids.

_=at all costs you must complete this work=_

Her words to him, as they stood staring at the thing the hybrid had become, had been urgent and in that moment she had, quite unguardedly, allowed him to see this corridor. Something here was important to her.

Slowly, he walked down the corridor, placing the remembrance of what he had seen over what he _now_ was seeing… abruptly, he stopped.

"Here," he said softly, speaking to himself as he realised there was a concealed doorway in the corridor. Once he knew it was there, it did not take him long to locate the locking mechanism, and push the button to activate it. Nothing happened.

If there was one thing he had learned from the humans, over the years, it was that they had some of the most ridiculous sayings for the most simple of processes. One sprang to mind as he stood there, looking at the closed door. _Where there is a will, there is a way._ He took his knife from its sheath, and very carefully peeled back the cover.

"So far, so good," he crooned one of the human phrases, as he reached for the innards of the controls. A moment later the door slid open at his touch, and as he walked inside, the chamber lit up to reveal a very well equipped laboratory… equally as well equipped as the one he had been given, but at least twice the size, and with adjoining rest quarters.

A small, almost unnoticed blinking light on the underside of one of the benches caught his attention. He might not have noticed it except that he had happened to look down to see what he was doing as he put his knife away. Without waiting to see if his supposition was correct about what the light could mean, he pushed off from the side of the bench all but dived for the door…

Even as fast as he was, he was too slow. The explosion rolled over him; took his feet from under him. The last thing he felt, an incredible crushing pain as light and heat bathed him in the promise of destruction.


	3. Act 3

**Act 3**

The deck of the Queen's chamber moved beneath her slightly the moment before the sound began. It was like nothing Vega had ever heard before. A shrill undulating screech that made a grab for both her teeth, and her gut together, and twisted them through the most painful of contortions, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

The Queen swept to her feet, pushing away Vega's hands, pushing away those of her other handmaiden, to hurry down the steps to the floor of her chamber, as the guards and a Wraith commander hurried in.

He was taller even than Todd, almost towering over the Queen as she stood before him, blade tipped fingers resting against his chest. His hair was longer than most as well, and was clasped in a dark leather thong at the base of his skull, to reveal the Wraith characters that wound in an almost serpentine manner around his neck and disappeared beneath the shoulders of his long coat. The characters continued upwards over his jaw line, and up the side of his face, onto his left cheek.

Bodily, he neither moved, nor spoke, only his head moved from one side, to the other, in time with the way the Queen tilted her own as she locked eyes with his. A connection, dark, sensual and dangerously familiar passed between them, and he let out a long, slow breath that sounded to Vega like the angry protest of some huge snake.

After several moments, the Queen demanded, "Where is he now?"

Vega realised that the conversation was for her benefit, and began to suspect that she would be called upon; sent to do the Queen's bidding. From the Queen she felt annoyance, mingled with worry. The commander glanced toward Vega and the other woman in the chamber before answering the Queen.

"We have not yet moved him, my Queen. He was injured in the explosion from the laboratory and is unconscious."

The Queen growled softly. "Have him taken back to his own laboratory," she gestured to Vega then, "and take the girl with you. She can care for him until he wakes and can take care of himself."

"Of course, my Queen," the commander answered, and gestured to two of the guards behind him to come and collect Vega, but the Queen raised a hand, and they stopped moving.

Tilting her head to the side she turned slightly, to barely glance at Vega.

_=go with them. Care for him as is necessary. Remember – his… health is important to us… to me=_

The words echoed around in her head until Vega could think of nothing more. Until of their own volition her feet began to move; carry her toward the Wraith commander and the soldiers. When she reached the soldiers, they took her by the arms and hurried her along unfamiliar corridors, through a never ending maze of twists and turns until she had lost all bearings; all hope of finding her way was gone. The hum of the ship around her changed subtly, and Vega realised they must have left hyperspace. Perhaps the explosion had caused damage to the Hive as well.

As they turned another twist around the tangled thread of corridors, she saw the answer to her supposition very clearly. Parts of the walls lay scattered underfoot, matter oozing from the spaces between, as the Hive was already beginning to repair itself. And there among the debris the fallen figure of a Wraith. Todd.

"You… you're sure—" she swallowed hard, not even wanting to think about being aboard the Hive without Todd being there. She forced herself to finish the question. "You're sure he's still alive."

"He breathes," the Wraith commander told her. "Shallow, but he breathes."

"Right," she said, swallowing again.

"They will bring him to his laboratory," the commander said, speaking of the Wraith soldiers who, even as he did, let go of her arms and moved toward Todd, to lift him from the wreckage around him and begin to carry him back the way they had come.

As they passed her, Vega stood aside and looked at the scorched and bloodied body they carried and wondered how, in the name of everything holy, he could have survived such a thing.

As though he was reading her thoughts, the commander said, "He is Wraith." He chuckled then and said, "You might want to remember that, and be sure that you are careful when he wakes. His first instinct will be to feed and I do not believe that my Queen would wish for it to be upon you. She values your… skills."

**

They summoned him some time after the planet's red dawn, following a night that had once again brought little sleep and even less success in finding a solution to his problem.

At first, the recombinant DNA from the child had helped to replace the bonds between chromosomes, but, after only a few hours, it became clear that the stabilisation was only a temporary one and the cellular degradation had begun again. Simulations he had run, based on the observations he made during the process, had finally provided him with the real possibility of a solution, but it was one which confirmed his earlier thought; that his only course of action to reach that solution was a risky one. He did not like risk. It was the antithesis of every part of him that remained _who_ he was – what he had made of himself.

He paused in dressing to run a hand across his face. Now it began. What few hours he had finally slept had renewed him enough that he could begin moving forward once more. He had too many things to do to delay any longer. He had to complete the modifications to his retrovirus, had to continue his improvements to the Hoffan drug, and now he had to nurture the forming sentience of his new Hive ship.

As he fastened the final buckle on his leather coat, his hand trembled. He made a fist of it and for a moment stared at it as though it had betrayed him; betrayed his nervousness, though there was none here to witness it, except the child.

Thoughts of the child jolted him from the miasma of feeling; of emotion into which he was slipping and with rapid steps he crossed the room toward the door, pausing only to check that the chamber in which the boy was resting was functioning correctly, he left and made his way toward the surface, where his new ship awaited him.

**

"Richard," the woman on the screen addressed him curtly, "It's good to speak with you at last."

"And with you as well," he answered, his hands gripping the edge of the desk on which his computer sat. "I trust you received my report?"

"Indeed," she said, "Most troubling. I don't mind telling you that it's sparked quite the discussion; quite the argument."

"I can imagine. The whole situation hasn't been at all easy," he agreed.

"Yes," she leaned forward, addressing him, via the screen, quite fervently, and said, "Richard, we felt it necessary to convene an emergency meeting of the joint taskforce in response to your report. The IOA, Stargate Command, and the Department of Homeworld Security all felt very strongly about the matter."

Woolsey swallowed hard, expecting the reprimand, the relief of duty at his mishandling of the entire situation, to come at any moment.

When the axe did not fall, he asked, "And what were the committee's findings?"

"Don't worry," she said, astutely reading the concern he tried to keep from his face, "the consensus of opinion is that you're handling the situation very well under the circumstances, and we're eager to assist in any way we can."

Woolsey couldn't help snorting in mild contempt. "Having Colonel Sheppard censured and relieved of military command would be a start," he said.

"Not going to happen, Richard," she warned, "he's far too highly thought of by many in the SGC. General O'Neill for exa—"

"So, what do they expect me to do?" he snapped. "How can you possibly—"

"We mean to pursue the matter with extreme prejudice, and in the meantime prepare a final recommendation for the President," she said, "unless of course matters progress _before_ that time to, shall we say, an untenable situation."

Woolsey shook his head in something approaching disbelief. They were advocating decisive action on the one hand, and tying his hands with political caution on the other.

"I would have thought that my report, to date, would have been proof enough that we're already at that point. With the defection of the Athosian woman, and the infection of the major, we're already vulnerable. Add to that, we're caught between the larger forces of the Wraith and the Hybrids, led by the former Wraith, Michael, and—"

"We're aware of the situation, Richard," she said calmly, over-patient. "The IOA merely… wishes to be certain there's no other solution than the one currently on the table."

"Which is?" he asked.

"You'll be recalled to Earth to receive those orders, Mister Woolsey, should it be deemed necessary."

"And in the meantime?"

"In the meantime, the joint taskforce is sending a representative to… assist; to gather more information, and to back you up. I believe you already know each other."

"Oh?"

"Professor Varnerin."

"Varnerin? Reuben Varnerin?" Woolsey couldn't stop the frown from crossing his face.

"The same," she said. "The DHS believe he has the necessary skill set to help… alleviate the problem."

"But I thought he—"

"An unfortunate misunderstanding," she interrupted smoothly, "A senate committee delivered their findings very recently on the subject of the alleged incident and he was cleared of all wrong-doing."

Woolsey's frown deepened. Someone clearly had an agenda, that much was obvious and he did not much relish becoming a part of it. On the other hand, Varnerin _did_ have a reputation for getting things done.

"When can we expect him?" he asked, resolving to take extreme caution where the professor was concerned.

"He'll be arriving, with his team, and his equipment at our next scheduled dial-in," she said. "I'm sure you'll be ready to facilitate all his needs."

**

The closer Michael came to the site, the more he felt the tentative searching put out by the developing consciousness. It was merely the whisper of a touch against his mind, a request for direction, designation, - for contact.

Overnight there had been a massive increase in the mass, and in the structure of the Hive organism, fuelled by the thermal vent over which the foundations of the cradle had been built. The growth was rapid.

Briefly he laid his hand onto the tensile hardness of the support beam that was already wrapped in the spreading bio-polymer. At once, sensing the touch, several tendrils reared up, snake-like, striking toward him.

_-cease- -cease- -cease-_

As if suddenly paralyse the tendrils hung, mid-strike, allowing him ingress toward the cradle he knew lay at the centre of the tangled mass.

When he moved through them, the agile limbs brushed against him, as if testing him; tasting. He kept his breathing steady, even, and accepted the touches.

//At last, you are come.//

The voice wavered between tones, as the consciousness sought to use the unfamiliar vocal cords. At the same time concepts, barely formed, brushed against his mind.

"I have always been here," he answered, his voice like a whip, his telepathic contact with the developing Hive's consciousness, of necessity, harsh – subduing. He felt contrition. "Better," he said, and crouched beside what was left of the girl.

"What is happening to me?" Her eyes snapped open and the voice, her own this time, trembled.

"All is coming to be as it should," he told her, and reached out to almost gently brush back strands of her hair from her chilled face. "Sleep. It will all soon be over."

She sighed at his touch and he tilted his head, watching the tears that began to run from her eyes. Curious, he reached out to touch the wetness. A querying look crossed his face.

"Why?" she asked him after a moment, barely audible.

"Why?" he asked, not understanding which one of many possibilities she was asking.

"Miran," she said, "You were the one that killed him. I know you did. It told me."

"He was your…" Her eyes finally closed and so he stopped speaking.

//She cared for him. His absence hurts.//

"His absence no longer matters," he answered. "His life served the purpose for which it was taken."

//So cold.//

"No. Pragmatic."

//So it is pragmatism for which I am caused to be?//

"Yes. You are needed." He took a breath and let it out as a sigh as he looked at the pale likeness of the girl, Lisstha's, face barely recognisable under the infection of the Hive organism. A momentary and unexpected flurry of sadness touched him and he asked, "She is gone?"

//Her life functions are minimal.//

With another sigh, he nodded. He did not understand his sorrow. He had not felt anything for this girl; had not even known her – not like before…

_She rose from the bathing pool, and waited while her remaining handmaiden wrapped the robe around her still dripping body._

_=how dare you=_

_Her countenance was of amusement, however, not of anger, as he immediately reminded her that she had given him leave to enter her presence. She turned and spread her arms, inviting his approach. Her handmaiden backed away as he did – awaiting instruction, he knew._

_The closer he came, the more his emotions, his anger, barely held in check, became. He could sense she had known of his feelings for the one she'd chosen, but more than that… that it had been chief among her considerations when she had selected the candidate, from among her handmaidens, to become the new Hive Ship. He had to confess that he understood it to be the logical choice. The woman had been a loyal handmaiden to the Queen, and she was as close to the Wraith female as any – closer even than her Commander, it made sense. Yet…_

_-you sent her to me-_

_He slowly lowered himself to one of his knees, his head downturned; his eyes lowered… supplication to the exquisite Queen before him. His breath trembled in and out of his body. In her presence he almost forgot the reason for his anger – the loss of his plaything, a plaything that his Queen had given to him. Almost…_

_-why?-_

_He demanded to know the reasons for her choice as he felt her move closer still. The bottom edge of her gauzy robe brushed against his knee, rested over it as she reached forward to cup his chin in her hand, and bring his face up to meet hers. His eyes followed slowly, eventually meeting the burning gold of the Queen's._

_Still holding his chin, she waved her remaining handmaiden forward. The girl, younger than the other had been, shook visibly as she came toward the Wraith Queen and her scientist. When she stopped at his side the girl reached forward for the clasp that held his coat closed over his chest._

_His hand flashed out, almost a slap, though his fingers closed around the girl's wrist, still demanding an answer from the Queen as to her spiting of him._

_=because you are mine=_

//She has hurt you.//

An almost burning anger; resentment bordering on hatred flared in his gut. Michael gasped, and blinked, shaking his head and fighting to bring his breathing under control. It was a simple statement, and yet it encompassed so much the Queen had done.

"It was a long time ago," he said at last, "and my retribution is at hand."

//That is what I am for.//

"You will be my flagship," he said. "The time of the Wraith; the reign of the Queen, the arrogance of the Lanteans – all of it… will end."

**

Teyla ran a trembling hand over her face, exhausted by the search, by the constant inability to pick up the thread, even though she had been searching for several days. The list in her pocket grew shorter with each Gate through which she stepped. The possibilities for viable worlds, at least those of which she knew, containing the symbols the hybrid had dialled, were coming to an end.

For a moment she contemplated simply turning around and dialling back to Atlantis. McKay and his computers would help her. They could check every world, find Michael and—

She shook her head, clearing it; banishing the foolish notion that she would receive anything other than vilification from the people on Atlantis – if not from those she had considered her friends, then certainly from those loyal to Woolsey.

_"You know, you could do us all a favour; do yourself a favour, really, and tell us what you know about Michael. It would save you a world of hurt. You really think the folks back home are just going to sit you down, give you tea and cookies, and have a nice cosy chat?"_

She took a breath, trying not to remember the look of contempt that had been on Hollick's face as he had taken her toward the Gate room.

"No, I am alone," she said into the morning air. "I am alone, and must _find_ you alone."

She turned her back on the Stargate and set off along the cobbled track toward the buildings she could see in the distance. She was cautious, as always, for she did not know much of this world or its people, but the desperation to achieve her aims, to find the thread of a clue that would lead her to Michael was mounting, and quickened her steps, making them perhaps a little less careful than they should have been.

**

After they had carried him to the laboratory, and had laid him on the single cot there, they had left Vega quite alone with Todd. The Commander had brought supplies to within her reach… water, cloths, a knife and a foul smelling liquid, held in a dark glass bottle that she assumed was an antiseptic of some kind – it had that kind of pungent odour – before he too had withdrawn. It was clear that they intended for her to clean him up.

For a long time, she sat on the floor beside the workbench, away from the unconscious Wraith, and did nothing… trying to make sense of what her life had become. She sighed, feeling hot and uncomfortable. She couldn't bring her thoughts to order and so finally turned her attention to the injured Wraith, and could not help but wonder where she was to start. She had never done anything other than a brief course in field medicine – a requirement for her captaincy. But whatever injuries he might have sustained, she suspected would be far in excess of her ability to treat, plus, and it was no small realisation, he might _look_ like her – aside from the greenish skin, the sharp teeth, yellow eyes and, she could not forget, the ability to suck the life out of her with a single touch, if he so desired… or needed – but…

She backed away again, and took in a deep breath. He was unconscious and if she was honest, her fear of angering the Queen by _not_ taking care of her scientist was greater than that of said scientist waking up only to feed on her. Her hands trembled as she reached for the clasps on Todd's leather coat.

It took her a moment to understand the mechanism of them and be able to get them to unfasten, and as she released each of them she kept a close watch on his face for any sign of waking.

She couldn't help but wince as she carefully peeled aside the ruined coat, nor thinking that it was a good thing that he was still unconscious. The burns covered much of his upper chest, and there were pieces of shrapnel embedded in his abdomen.

"None of which you can do anything about unless you get him out of his shirt," she said aloud, beginning to feel unnerved by the solitude, and in the realisation of what she was doing. She snatched her hand away from the immobile Wraith. "What the _hell_ are you doing, girl?"

She took another breath, glancing around. She was stuck. The ship was huge, even if she could get out of the room, and she doubted the Commander would have left it unlocked, then where would she go? With a heavy sigh, she returned her attention to Todd, and this time took up a knife and began to cut the already torn shirt, and peel that away from the wounds.

It took several moments before she could steady her hands enough to think about picking up a cloth and cleaning the blood away. Soon after, she could see to begin carefully taking out the biggest of the pieces embedded in his abdomen. She worked carefully, and after several moments, as he still had not woken, curiosity began to tickle at the back of her conscious mind. Instead of keeping her eyes fixed on the shrapnel she was removing, she began to let her eyes take in the surrounding skin, and after a little while more, finally swept her eyes over Todd's body.

He wasn't the first Wraith she'd seen in any state of undress. Having bathed the Queen on several occasions, she had seen her completely naked, but she couldn't help but begin to think of him in human terms. Even with the burns and the lacerations, and the pieces of Hive ship still embedded in his torso, his body was well muscled, toned and shapely. And green… she reminded herself.

They kept themselves so covered, these males, that to see him like this was somewhat of a revelation. She didn't know quite what she would have expected otherwise, but he seemed—

His eyes snapped open, almost glowing in madness, and he took in a massive, laboured breath. Before she could move away his hands reached out, faster than she had ever seen anyone move, and closed, one around her wrist, the other around her throat, cutting off her air.

Her free hand reached up in sudden panicked desperation to try and pry herself free, at the same time pulling against his restraining grasp around her wrist.

"Todd!" she gasped, "Todd, stop!"

After only another moment she began to see small flecks of light floating in front of her eyes. She began to feel light headed, and could hear nothing but the sound of her blood rushing through her ears.

"Todd!"

**

Teyla leaned against the countertop, watching the coming and going in the inn. She did not announce herself to the innkeeper, not yet, preferring to try and get a measure of the people into whose life she was intruding in her personal and desperate search.

They seemed to be an ordinary enough people, engaging in their business, talking and drinking together, eating, relaxing… it did not at all occur to her that they seemed to be _overly _relaxed, that it seemed peaceful there. If it had, she might have been more watchful, more wary.

"Something I can help you with?" the innkeeper came behind her and spoke softly to her, drawing her attention away from the scene in front of her.

She turned, and fixed what she hoped was a bright smile onto her face, "Yes," she said quietly, "I am looking for some people… perhaps you can help me."

"I see a lot of people come through here," he said, somewhat coldly.

"Of course you do," she said, trying to remain calm in the face of his reticence. "You would remember these people. They have markings on their faces, pale eyes—"

The proprietor frowned, and she stopped speaking at once, beginning to feel uncomfortable; beginning to tense, perhaps to realise that everything was not as it seemed.

"Those kinds of people don't come around here," he said darkly.

Slowly she began to reach for the knife she carried, every pour in her body screaming _danger._

"Don't!" a new voice, this one behind her, said curtly. "It would be ill advised. You're outnumbered, and none here want to see you hurt."

She spun around, trying to put herself into a space as she did, to face the speaker, but his words to her had been truthful. As she had been speaking to the proprietor of the inn, several of the men that had been sitting drinking, or conversing by the fire in the hearth, had left their places to come closer, to encircle her.

"Put the knife down, Lantean," the man said calmly.

Instead, Teyla dropped into a crouch. She shifted the knife in her hand to defend against any man that began to move against her. It was a losing battle, and she knew that before she began it. Still she had to try.

At first they came at her singly, or in pairs, and fell away from her with bloodied hands, or gashes to their arms for the pleasure of underestimating her. Still, as fast as she beat them back, another came to fill up the space she had made, cutting off any hope she had of escaping them.

As if they finally tired of toying with her, four of them came at her, one from each side, all reaching for her, lashing out. She lunged with the knife, and at the same time lashed out with her free hand to block an incoming blow. Spinning, she shifted her balance to kick at the third of them, driving him back, but when she stepped forward, to follow through with the attack, hands grabbed her from behind, tipping her backwards.

Her neck jarred, and pain exploded from the side of her skull, as one of the men holding her brought her head down hard on the edge of the counter. The room blurred, and the voices rang in her ears as her legs began to fold beneath her.

Semi-conscious and fading fast, she heard the proprietor speaking, but for a moment could not understand his words. She felt him push several of the others away from her. She tried to struggle, to get free, but two of the men leaned down and grabbed her arms, restraining her… holding her down.

"Take her to the basement," a voice said. "Lock her up with the others until we can inform them we have one of the Lanteans here."

**

Flat against the side of one of the buildings, Sheppard keyed his headset mic. "Team Two, report."

_"Moving into position now, sir."_ The voice of the team leader was calm, efficient.

"Watch your positions," Sheppard ordered. "Last thing we need is for them to see us coming and trigger whatever failsafe Michael has in place."

_"Understood,"_ the team leader confirmed. _"Team two, stand ready on the colonel's mark."_

Sheppard glanced at Ronon as the big Satedan all but threw himself into place beside him.

"I count twelve hybrids – one on the roof of each building, seven on the ground. Probably more inside," he rumbled quietly.

"Michael?" Sheppard asked. He didn't really believe they could be so lucky as to find him so soon in their assaults against those of his facilities they had managed to identify.

Ronon shook his head. "Not unless he's inside."

Sheppard nodded.

_How does it feel, Colonel Sheppard…?_

"All teams, this is Sheppard, three, two, one – mark!"

Ronon was the first out of cover. He rolled around the side of the building that sheltered him. Sheppard followed but seconds later and both men came face to face with a surprised hybrid. In one smooth motion, Ronon grabbed the soldier's arm and smashed him across the face with his forearm. The hybrid staggered backwards, right into the stream of bullets from Sheppard's P90.

Ronon's count proved to be low. As the gun battle started, reinforcements came running from the outlying buildings to join in the defence of the facility. The air in the compound was filled with the percussive ring of gunfire and the answering electronic fizzle of the hybrids' blasters. From all quarters the cries of men and hybrids echoed as they fell.

"Fall back!" The leader of the hybrids gathered his remaining soldiers and began a retreat toward the large building at the centre of the compound. "Defend the laboratory!"

Sheppard growled, seeing Lorne – unconscious and changing; Teyla, weeping in his arms for the loss of her son… _How does it feel…?_ He tapped his earpiece once more to activate the mic. "All units, this is Sheppard, take them down!"

**

The feral expression faded from Todd's face as comprehension flooded into his yellow eyes. Vega all but fell over him as he suddenly let go. She gasped for breath, supporting herself on her hand, which fell against his shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled at her, his voice revealing his pain.

"What am… _I_ doing?" she gasped, trying to straighten up, but finding herself still trembling and weakened from lack of oxygen. He raised his hands, closed his fingers around her upper arms to help her.

"I assume that you were sent to tend my wounds," he said, "surely you were warned—" He stopped as she pulled away and shivered, and he rumbled a small chuckle in the back of his throat. "I can see that you were."

"Yeah," she coughed a little, rubbing at her throat, "The Jolly Green Giant did mention something about you needing to feed when you woke up."

"And yet still you took the risk in order to…?" he raised an eyebrow in query, inviting her to enlighten him by finishing the sentence.

"I was told to take care of you; clean you up," she said, wrapping her arms around herself at the expression on his face.

**

He tilted his head as she pulled away, and tried to sit up a little. He could see to his own injuries, he did not need assistance now that he was conscious. Mentally he cursed the architect of the hidden device, a failsafe, he was sure, and it did not take much imagination for him to decide on the identity of the one responsible.

Gathering himself to try and rise, he tightened every muscle to keep himself from trembling from the pain that came, not only from his injuries, but from the burning of his need to feed.

"Oh no, Mister!" The woman pushed her warm hand against his shoulder to encourage him to lie back, and then reached for a nearby bowl of water, and the cloth within, intending, he was sure, to clean the cuts and burns on his body. He could smell the antiseptic that laced the water.

The sting of the liquid was a welcome, additional pain that cleared his mind enough for the movement at the side of the room to register in his consciousness. He found himself curious at the near silent approach of the mutated creature that had escaped its containment. His agile mind put together the circumstances by which it had escaped. Power must have been disrupted during the explosion, but it had taken the creature some time to realise that its route to freedom lay open to it.

Vega's hand came to rest against the side of his stomach… her touch startled him, and he almost glared at her.

"Sorry… sorry," she said, "but it has to come out. It—"

"You will wish to move," he said, starting to sit up.

"Oh no you don't," she told him again, pressing her hand against his shoulder to keep him in place.

"Seriously," he rumbled.

Silently it came closer, reaching out its club-like hand toward the young human woman. For just a moment, he felt a brief flurry of temptation to allow the creature to reach her. Scientific curiosity had replaced his former revulsion. Would it try to feed, as its Iratus bug characteristics would suggest, or would it simply give way to the baser instincts to kill?

"Listen," she insisted, slapping at his hand as he tried to lift her restraining grasp away from his shoulder, "Her Royal Wraithness said I had to—"

"You have to move."

"No way, buster."

With no more time for further persuasion, and using what reserves of strength he still possessed, he swept his arm in an arc and all but threw Vega across the room.

**

The impact against the workbench knocked the air from her lungs and she lay, stunned for a moment, unable to get up. She trembled as a creature that looked as though it could once have been a man, but now looked mutated and swollen, reached forward into the space where, but a second before, she had been sitting, ministering to Todd.

Todd snatched up the knife she'd been using and, faster than she imagined was possible for someone with injuries such as his, sprang toward the creature. It raised its club-like hand to try and defend against the vicious slashing attack, but Todd reversed the direction of the knife and trust upwards towards the creature's throat.

He roared as the two of them fell to the floor together, and for a moment neither moved, and a terrible silence, punctuated only by the pounding of her heart in her ears, fell over the laboratory.

"Todd?" She finally called his name softly, as she crept closer to the tangled pile of limbs. A soft moan, barely audible, even as she came closer, made her pounding heart beat even faster, and she reached out to push at the mutated _thing_ that topped the pile of body parts. Eventually the creature rolled away, and she was able to reach and, with great difficulty, turn Todd face up once more, ending up all but pulling him across her knees as she tried to move his near dead weight.

"—check," he barely breathed, slipping toward unconsciousness again.

"Don't you _dare_ die on me, you idiot Wraith!" she snapped, and then ran a trembling hand through her hair, as she looked around for something, some way to summon help. Though the thought terrified her, she knew that if he were to survive this, he would need to feed, and soon – and if _she_ were to survive being in this place, she would need his help. "So help me, Alicia Vega," she said to herself, "If you die because of this, I'm _so_ going to kill you."

Taking a breath, she shook him slightly, trying to rouse him enough that she thought he would hear her. "Listen, Todd, I'm not sure quite how this works, but… you're in a bad way and—" her breathing quickened as she picked up his hand and tried to bring it to rest against the top of her chest, "—ah hell, just… try not to kill me, huh?"

**

Keller took the information she printed to her desk and sat for a long time staring at the telltale pattern and position of the three specific base pairs. As if she did not believe the evidence before her, she spread the previous results over the top of her desk as well and spent many minutes staring at the two in comparison.

She was waiting for Rodney. Killing time before she had to kill the hope she knew the scientist had, that it was all some terrible mistake.

"Jennifer," she jumped and looked up at McKay as he came to her side and put a hand onto her shoulder. She hadn't heard him come in.

"Rodney, I—" she sighed, and almost hurriedly started to clear her desk of the various sheets of the results.

"You... have the results, I see," he said, gesturing to the papers and the PCRs in her hands.

"Yeah, I do," she told him softly. "I was very thorough, Rodney…"

He sighed. "But the results were still the same."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know what to tell you. I even ran Kanaan's DNA against Lorne's hybridised DNA to be able to remove those chains and nucleotides from the sample. I mean, he had to have used his own DNA in the creation of the hybrids, right?"

"I'd say it's pretty much a given, yeah," Rodney agreed, and slowly sank into a chair. "Teyla… I— she— Michael—"

Keller raised her eyebrow, waiting for the actual question. When it didn't come, she said, "We have no way of knowing what Michael did when she was his prisoner, Rodney."

"Make your best guess, Doctor," he said bitterly, with not some small hint of repulsion in his voice. "What does this _mean_ as far as Teyla is concerned?"

Keller shook her head.

"I'm not going there, Rodney," she snapped. "This is manipulation, plain and simple. What it means for Teyla is that _we_ have to find her, before anyone else… and before she finds Michael."

He took a deep breath and finally nodded. "Sorry, I just—"

"I know, I know," she flicked the file he now held in his hand, "You see parts of the picture, not the whole. Just remember that."

"But on his ship—"

Keller shook her head, "Still parts of the picture. I can't believe you're playing _into_ this, Rodney. This is _Teyla._"

Rodney shook his head, becoming more agitated as the words started to fall from him, "You said it yourself, Jennifer. This is _Michael._ And if he can mess with her mind enough that she forgets an entire – what was it – four weeks? Five - longer? What the hell else could he—"

"No!" Keller suddenly ripped the file from his hand and took out one of the PCRs. With a pen from her desk tidy she drew a large black circle around a set of markers, all but spitting, "Kanaan!" as she did.

Rodney snatched the pen from her hand, drawing a large black line over her palm as he did and drew a square around another set of markers. "Then what the _hell_ is _that!_"

**

The captive woman turned and, all but herded forward by her hybrid guard, brought the child back to him. He took the baby from her carefully, and then gave her a curt nod, and another to the hybrid, toward the door. He would not begin until he was alone.

The child in his arms mewled at him as he held him and he tilted his head as he looked down at the child. The boy's eyes seemed to be looking back at him, though he was sure that it was his imagination. Almost as a test, he passed a hand from one side to the other between where the child lay in the crook of his arm, and his own chest. The baby turned his head to track the movement. Michael raised an eyebrow. It seemed he still had much to learn about the infant's development.

The boy yawned, and brought his fist to his mouth. Michael sighed. It would be many more hours before _he_ could sleep. He had work to do and he could not allow sentiment to get in the way. Quickly, strengthening his resolve, he turned and approached his workbench, where he laid the boy into the containment unit already standing open.

His hand faltered slightly as he reached toward the tray of instruments, for the needle with which he would extract the material necessary for his work.

_Her eyes became awash. He saw, as well as felt, her fear, her anger, even before it came into her eyes and she looked away. He felt a momentary stab of his own pain, deep in his gut, and reached to cup the side of her face in his hand, to make her look at him again. He had to reassure her, tell her the truth of this child, and his importance, "I will not harm him. Why can't you just accept that?"_

Making rapid calculations in his head, he moved beyond the instruments, to pick up a vial and a small syringe. He had made a promise to her in his own way – and he intended to keep it. The anaesthetic would keep pain from the child, and he would ensure the boy's safety throughout the procedure, and afterwards, while he recovered. So long as the material he harvested was sufficient to achieve his work, the small delay would not matter overmuch.

The boy whimpered as he administered the drug. Moved his arms and legs as if in protest at the treatment, but soon the movements slowed, and stopped as the anaesthetic took hold. Quickly he took the necessary steps to ensure the continued health of the unconscious child, before returning to his place beside the tray of instruments. Now, he was ready to begin.

**

_She walked a darkening, narrowing hallway, most atypical of the hallways on most Wraith facilities. She knew she had taken a wrong turn and should go back – find the others again – but something compelled her, moved her onwards. She did not __**want**__ to be with Sheppard or Ronon in that moment._

_The hallway ended in an open doorway, but she could not see inside. A flush of something, close to fear, thrilled though her body and gripping her weapon tightly she stepped inside the room, turning quickly first one way, and then the other to ensure the room was safe. She saw nothing and so cautiously stepped forward, one pace at a time._

_There was someone there, she could sense him, feel a part of herself reaching out toward him, but her eyes told her that the room was empty._

_"I know that you are here," she said coldly, denying she felt anything other than the presence of a Wraith. "Show yourself – coward."_

Her head turned against the cobbled floor, where they had thrown her. Her hand flailed out, and slapped against the dampened ground beneath her.

_Suddenly she spun away from him, twisting his hand and pulling him closer again before she shifted her balance and brought her knee upward toward his middle. He let one knee bend beneath him, allowing him to turn and take the blow against his hip, at the same time releasing the hand he still held, and quickly bringing his arm across to defend against the blow she aimed at him with the other._

_She used the momentum of the blocked attack to all but somersault over his left shoulder; to put herself behind him. He continued his own descent, and turned quickly on one knee, his long white hair flying behind him as he did._

_This time _he_ came at _her_, and he was pulling no punches. His hands were a blur that she fought to keep up with; hurried to block the incoming blows as she was forced to give ground._

Beginning to drift toward consciousness, awareness, she moaned softly, flooding with sensations at the memory…

_He easily caught her wrist, pressed her against the wall with the whole of him. His fingers grazed her wrist, and then passed over her palm to entwine with her own and hold her in place. His right hand pressed against her chest._

_Her breathing came in startled, terrified snatches, but all the same there was something primal, almost needful in the sensations travelling through her in that moment._

_"There are two possibilities from this point," he told her, capturing her eyes with his as he tilted his head, continuing in a whisper, "What are we…to do?"_

_Her chest tingled beneath the touch of his hand… she felt almost as though she was drowning. His mind began to wrap itself around hers._

_-what are we to do?- -what are we?- -what?-_

"Michael…" she murmured. "No… please you—"

_"Teyla!" Sheppard's voice, full of worry, almost anguish, drowned the mesmerising hiss coming from the Wraith that had her pinned against the wall. She did not register the high pitched sound of Ronon's blaster until the Wraith before her jerked suddenly, and the grasp around her wrist slackened._

_-Teyla?- -Teyla?- -Teyla?-_

_The question hung in her mind as she, too, almost slumped down the wall, her terrified breathing hardly supplying the oxygen she needed. Warm arms slipped supportively around her and in reflex she clung to Sheppard, but her eyes did not ever leave the Wraith that was now unconscious at her feet._

_"What the hell were you thinking, Teyla?" Ronon snapped, grabbing the Wraith by the wrist and preparing to move him away from his friend._

_"Finding a Wraith for Doctor Beckett, as I was expected to do," she all but snapped in answer. Then she nodded toward the Wraith. "Bring him. We need to leave."_

She took a long breath, her eyelids fluttering. Wakefulness still evaded her, still lapped at her like teasing waves. She needed to wake… knew she was dreaming, but did not awaken.

_The holding room had been darkened to an almost purple dark-light. Beckett's orders – "No need to torture the poor Wraith any more than necessary."_

_She stood in the shadowed corner, watching… just waiting… the Wraith did not move. She could not feel him as before, and reaching for him would give away the fact that she was there. She did not want him to know… not until she cho—_

_"You are curious," he said, "have questions."_

_"Don't you?" she asked coldly, stepping into the light. Little point in trying to remain hidden if he already knew she was there._

_He shrugged. "This is Atlantis. My kind meets only one fate here. My only question would be – why the delay?"_

_She shook her head and he frowned in confusion and took a step toward the bars, his head tilted to one side._

_"You will not be killed here," she said._

"No!" she moved as though fighting hands that held her. "—son, please…stop! You're killing him!"

_They held him, Ronon and Sheppard, as he writhed and twisted against the restraints. He growled at them… snarled and spat abuse… threatened to feed on them…she stepped closer to the foot of the bed. If she could calm him – remind him that she had promised he would not die here…_

_Suddenly the restraint around his right hand broke as he looked beyond Ronon, beyond Sheppard, to see her standing so close to the foot of his bed. She felt him reaching for her, almost desperate for the touch. She felt the fear, not of death, but of loneliness – being cut off from his kind, and in sympathy, everything inside of her called out to him… her Wraith DNA answering…a deep and wanting feeling flooded through her… a longing so intense it was painful assaulted her…almost absently she stepped closer… to the side of the bed._

_He was fast… faster than the others… and thrust forward with his hand, caught her unawares and pulled her closer still… his golden eyes bore into her, his mind fully tearing into hers… Suddenly he threw back his head and roared in the most primal way…deeply animal, deeply needful… deeply sexual, and it made her ache for him…_

_Her own hand lashed forward, slapped hard against his chest, though whether to escape his touch, or to stay close to it, she did not know. Her mind reeled as she felt it begin, feeding, and not… both together… She made a claw of her hand and welcomed the deep pain of it – she cried out… snarled as they pulled her away from him._

_-…Queen!-_

_"No!" she fought with the orderlies that held her. "Carson, please…stop! You're killing him!"_

_"He's gotten inside her head! Someone get her the__** hell**__ out of here!" Beckett's voice sounded harsh above the Wraith's agonised cries._

"…Queen…? Stop… you're—" she gasped, and almost arched her back off the floor with all that was flooding through her.

_She leaned against the wall, breathing hard, still feeling the pain of his touch even as the orderlies let go of her, but stood ready to restrain her at a moment's notice. She held up her hands to them, to reassure them that she would not move. _

_She closed her eyes as she heard him roar, and then he cried out in the same pained tone, "You will die for this!" and roared again. "Others will come for me!"_

_She remembered his fear, and another pang of sympathy flooded her. She shook her head. She should not feel this way. He was Wraith!_

_"They will destroy you—"_

_"Blah, blah, blah," Sheppard mocked him._

_"They gotta find us first," Ronon snapped._

_The Wraith roared again, and she could almost feel their hands on him, restraining him, holding him down._

_"You're gonna need a name," Sheppard said, "How does Mike sound?"_

She sobbed aloud, pressing her hands against herself, one on her chest, the other arm wrapped around her belly, her hand against her side.

"Michael," she moaned, and opened her eyes into the darkness of the basement. "Michael…"

"You would do well to forget that name… if their masters come for you." Out of the darkness a voice sounded, soft and urgent.

She sat up suddenly, scrambled to her knees and peered in the direction from which the voice came. It was not the voice of a hybrid… it carried too much life, and did not have the barely detectable Wraith undertones.

"Who are you?" she demanded, "How do you know him?"

**

"Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey greeted them the moment they stepped through the Gate. "Welcome back. How is it going?"

"Well," he said, starting to surrender his weapons to the ordnance officer who had come to collect them. "I wouldn't say it was all plain sailing, but we managed to take out another one. Still no sign of Michael, or the baby, in any of 'em though."

"How many is that? Five?" Woolsey asked.

"Seven," Sheppard corrected, "Not including M4G-584, the one he took out himself?"

"Still, eight facilities destroyed," Woolsey shook his head, "he's got to be feeling that by now."

Sheppard shrugged. He really didn't want to get into a discussion with Woolsey. He was tired. He was hungry, and he desperately needed a shower.

"Look," he said, "If there's nothing urgent… I've been off world for three days now. I'd like to go clean up a little. Get a little shut-eye…"

"Of course," Woolsey blinked, and then smiled. "I just wanted to be sure and congratulate you on a job well done."

Sheppard nodded, "Thanks." he said a little wryly, and began to move away. As he did, Ronon came to his side and slapped his chest, nodding toward the corridor leading away from the Gate Room, where McKay was hovering in the shadows. He sighed. No doubt more problems.

"Sheppard," McKay greeted him in a softly urgent voice as he and Ronon reached the scientist's hiding place.

"McKay," he returned the greeting.

"I need to talk to you," McKay said.

"Fine, well then," Sheppard did not stop moving, "talk."

"Not here," McKay made a grab for his arm, pulling him to a halt. "Somewhere private."

"Look, Rodney, can't it wait, I—"

"No," McKay said sharply. "It's about Teyla… and the baby."

Sheppard frowned, his tiredness suddenly evaporating. _How does it feel, Colonel Sheppard, to know…? _"What about them?" he asked.

"Not here," McKay squeaked, as if he'd just suggested the most idiotic thing in the world.

"Whatever it is, McKay," Ronon growled, "You better tell us, right now!"

Sheppard looked around him urgently, taking his bearings, trying to locate a room they could use. "Come with me," he said suddenly, and grabbed McKay's arm, all but dragging the surprised scientist along behind him, as he approached the nearby storage room. Once inside, he finally let go of McKay and asked, "All right, McKay, what's going on?"

McKay looked between him and Ronon, and the grim line of McKay's mouth did not fill Sheppard with confidence.

"We _have_ to find Teyla," McKay told him, "wherever she is, whatever happens, we have to find Teyla before Michael, or the Wraith, or—we just have to find her."

"Well, that's not as easy as it sounds. She doesn't _want_ to be found. She doesn't want to be trapped here, doing nothing to find her son while Woolsey keeps her locked up and under surveillance and—"

"You don't understand." McKay shook his head urgently.

"No, Rodney, I don't," Sheppard agreed. "Supposing you tell us _why_ it's so urgent we find her."

McKay sighed, and looked at him as though he'd been cornered. "When we brought Teyla back to Atlantis from Michael's facility on M7S-445, Doctor Keller took blood and tissue samples."

"Standard medical protocol," Sheppard said, "of course she did. Especially since Teyla had just recently given birth, I'm sure she wanted to make sure that everything was all right, she—"

"She found something," Ronon surmised, folding his arms and taking a step closer to McKay.

McKay looked down, "Doctor Keller found strong traces of… Wraith DNA in the samples, especially in those…" he paused, and when he finished the sentence, Sheppard realised he had been trying to be subtle, "… that bore relevance to the baby."

"Okay," Sheppard said slowly, drawing out the word, not entirely following the direction of McKay's concern. "But… Teyla has Wraith DNA in her genetic make-up anyway and..."

"…Kanaan has—_had_ 'the gift' too," Ronon cut in, "wouldn't that—?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then what do you _mean_, Rodney?" Sheppard said, becoming irritated with dancing around the issue.

McKay sighed again, and a pained expression crossed his face as he blurted out, "Keller found elements of Michael's DNA in the blood samples."

A strange buzzing started in Sheppard's ears, and through it he heard Ronon rumble angrily, "What do you mean 'elements of Michael's DNA'? What are you saying?"

"Are you trying to tell me that Michael may have been trying to turn Teyla and the baby into those… _things_?" Sheppard cut in. "That _that's _why she can't remember anything, because he's making her into one of his—"

"The RNA strands are similar to those found in both Lorne's and Kanaan's hybridised DNA, yes," Rodney started, "but—"

_He approached a grizzly looking scene in the middle of the warehouse room; a table, clearly meant for experimentation on a person, and Wraith equipment nearby. As he turned back to face the others, Ronon was looking through equipment on a nearby bench. The Satedan picked something up from a metal tray._

_"Sheppard," he said, and held up a syringe, containing traces of a luminous green fluid, with a long needle attached. It could only have been used for injecting into one place._

_"You think Teyla?" McKay asked, horrified._

_Bile rose in his throat, and anger tinged his words as he replied, "No, I don't think so, and you don't think so."_

"No _way_, McKay!" Sheppard raised his voice as he stepped, in menace, toward the scientist, a thought that was darker still wrapping itself around his tortured memory. _How does it feel, Colonel Sheppard, to know that it's me she calls for in the dead of night; me she reaches for when she's in need…_

"—but we won't know until we find Teyla and the baby!" McKay yelped, raising his hands defensively.

"Then you better find a way to tell us where she is," he growled, and turned away, hurt and angry at the doubts suddenly coursing through him.

**

Michael let out a long slow breath as he checked the readings on the child's monitors once more. He had suffered no harm during the harvesting of the cells. He reached out and almost tenderly smoothed a hand over the dressing on the child's hip, and sighed again.

_-soon… little one-_

He closed his eyes, leaning against the chamber. Soon indeed… he would need to act; would need to give his hybrid lieutenants their final instructions; would need to gather his courage, face his fears and bring his past and present together in order to secure his future.

"What is it?" he demanded of the hybrid that waited behind him.

"Reports. We have finished securing the Wraith research facility you instructed us to subdue."

"Good, most timely," he said, glancing once again at the child. "Continue."

"We have received subspace alarms from several of our facilities, and… a strange signal has been detected from the Elder's Hive."

Frowning, he turned and almost snatched the Wraith tablet from the hands of his lieutenant. His eyes moved rapidly over the text, searching out the locations and recalling the uses to which each of the compromised facilities had been put. Silently, he cursed the Lanteans, and Sheppard in particular, though he had expected nothing less. When he reached the report of the signal from the Elder Hive he could not help but chuckle.

"So, he thinks he can better me," he said softly.

"Sir?" the hybrid asked in confusion.

"No matter," he shook his head, pulling himself away from thoughts of revenge, of future action. Time enough for that later, once the next phase of his plan was completed. "Prepare my cruiser for immediate departure. There are matters I must attend to."

He handed back the tablet and watched as the hybrid lieutenant went to carry out his orders. Very soon everything would be in place. His Hive would be ready; his hybrids perfected, and the truth of many things would come to be known. Why then did he feel such restlessness – such self doubt? He knew it was merely a product of his inactivity, and of the delays and setbacks he had suffered recently. Once he was underway again, even _with _all the factors he could not control, the doubts would fade and he would be himself again, and yet…

Absently he reached out a hand to bring his fingertips to rest over the soft skin of the sleeping child.

"Teyla…" he whispered softly.

**

She grabbed the little man, her fellow prisoner, who had revealed by his words that he was of a mindset sympathetic to Michael and his aims, by the scruff of his neck and pulled him closer. "You _will_ tell me," Teyla growled.

"To what end?" he pushed against her wrists as she bunched his shirt still tighter against his neck and he started to see stars. "Even if I did tell you the location, what good would it do you? We're both prisoners here, and soon the Wraith will get here—"

"Then you had better tell me quickly," she said dangerously, "or you will wish that it is _only_ the Wraith you have to fear."

**

She had not realised that she had fallen asleep until the touch woke her. Startled, she jerked upright, away from where her head rested beside Todd's hand, and half turned to find the Queen standing over her. The Elder Wraith's head tilted to one side as she regarded her.

"I have disturbed your rest," the Queen said quietly, her voice was almost gentle, as was her mood, as Vega felt the near warmth she projected. "I merely came to check on the condition of my scientist, and find that my handmaiden has… cared for him so well that she has exhausted herself."

Vega stood and backed away from Todd's side, lowering her eyes, the proper, respectful position a handmaiden should adopt before her Queen, as Todd had instructed her.

"Forgive me, My Queen, I—" she stammered.

"Really?" the Queen took a step forward and cupped Vega's chin in the palm of her hand, the sharp blades on her fingertips curled away from the skin of her face. "_Your_ Queen? Then you have accepted me at last?"

She felt suddenly dizzy as the Queen's gaze bore into her. Her head pounded and nausea gripped her as she realised she couldn't catch her breath. When the Queen let her go only a moment later, she staggered backwards, and grabbed at the wall for support.

"I understand there was an incident with the hybrid creature?" the Queen sat on the side of Todd's cot, and uncovered him enough to inspect his healing wounds. Vega did not move. She dare not. While it had been she that had dressed the wounds, the truth of his rapid healing, and the restorative sleep in which he still lay, had been in the fact of his feeding, which in spite of her moment of insanity, in all but giving herself to him, had not been upon her. "You may speak."

"It escaped. He killed it." She took a shuddering breath and added, "I nearly lost him when he did."

The Queen turned her head then, to regard Vega coolly. "But you did not," she said, and rose to come and stand before Vega again, "And in that did not fail me. You remind me of someone."

Vega tensed as the Queen raised a deadly hand, but gently ran the backs of her fingers down her cheek in a soft caress.

"She was my handmaiden, many millennia ago. She served me well, as you have done, and cared for one whom— I sense your question. Ask it."

"What happened to her?" she asked in spite of herself.

The Queen tipped her head to the left, looking about her, and then to the right, as if listening for some sound that Vega could not hear.

"She serves me still," the Queen said, in a sing-song voice.

"I don't—"

"Of course you do not," the Queen turned her gaze to Todd once more, as she spoke to Vega. "For your services, you may have the freedom of the Hive. Do not betray my generosity… girl. My scientist still needs your care. Submit to his every need, only…" she swayed her head to the side again, fixing Vega with an intense look, "remember… he is mine. Do not seek to change that."

**

It was a place of ghosts for him. The remnants of his former life waited around every corner to smother him in memory and angry regret, but of all places, it was here he was most likely to succeed in the necessary next steps on his journey toward his goal. He was not foolish enough to think that he could use the facility for long. As soon as the Wraith detected its use they would likely dispatch a cruiser to investigate and he would once more be embroiled in battle. By then, however, it would all be done, the serum would be produced and he could leave this place of painful memory, return to his more hidden facilities and administer the serum to his hybrids, and to those still awaiting hybridisation. With the flaws finally worked out on all but the most important of the issues that still faced him he was free to move forward, to move on.

_"Michael, why are you doing this…?" she laid her hand on his arm as he moved to rise. For a moment he looked at its softly tanned appearance, felt the warmth of it as something other than restraint._

_"All these worlds," he began softly, "filled with people, busying themselves with their pathetic lives. They come and they go, they live and they die and the galaxy is no better for it. But your son – your son will be an instrument of change…"_

His hybrids would be as strong as he could make them, and it would be time for the final step in his plan to finally bring a kind of peace to this blighted galaxy.

He turned the corner into the narrow corridor that led to the laboratory. It was a journey he had taken many times. It had been his demesne… though he doubted it would be as he had left it.

With a sigh he tried to banish the thoughts. He lived in a different world now; lived a different life, one that of necessity followed its current path… and in the end, when he was done, things _would_ be the better for it and yet… he could not help but remember its beginnings…

_The culture was dividing exactly as he had said it would, why the other doubted was beyond his understanding. With this compound injected into the neurones of the developing Hives…_

_An unfamiliar touch nagged against the back of his mind… Wraith, and yet, not Wraith… curious, he answered the touch, and all but faltered in surprise…one lived… after all the time between their inception and the efforts made in their eradication…?_

_Concentrating a little more, to find the way to mask himself from this individual so that he could observe them, he found the mind – a female mind – an almost comforting place to be… he melted back into the shadows._

_She was smaller than he, supple and strong, he could tell simply by the way she moved…and as humans went, he supposed she was attractive…_

_"I know that you are here," she said coldly, "show yourself – coward."_

_So… she could feel him but still could not see what he did not wish for her to see. Her mind was untrained, but by no means weak. She fascinated him. Slowly he stepped out of the shadows; approached on silent feet until he stood behind her. Then he spoke._

_"I don't know whether to congratulate you on finding my laboratory, or to feed on you to ensure your silence." She froze, the tension extending into her mind as well as her muscles. After a moment longer, he said, "Put down the weapon."_

_She denied him, and he opened his mind to hers again to push a little._

_"You have no need of it."_

_-No need of it- -no need- -need-_

_In spite of everything, her mind responded to his, the tension in it fading to allow him further ingress…_

_"You are not like the others," he said. Deliberately sensual, he glided his fingers downward from her shoulders, along the length of her arms to her hands, pushing with his mind to open her fingers; to let the weapon she carried drop to the ground. "There. Much better."_

_"Let go of me!" she demanded, and she pulled against his hands, where he still covered her fingers with his own._

_He leaned down to whisper against the side of her neck. "I will admit, when first I sensed you, I was surprised to discover that any of your kind still lived. I thought you had all been eradicated, either by my own kind or by yours. Either way, it is… interesting to see the result of it all made flesh."_

_"Take your hands off me," she snarled at him, her defiance excited him._

_"Make me."_

_-Make me- -make me- - make me-_

_Suddenly she spun away from him and, twisting his hand, she pulled him closer. Then her balance shifted and she brought her knee upward toward his middle. He felt the move before she even began it and bent one knee beneath him, turning to take the blow against his hip. At the same time, he released the hand he held, and quickly brought his arm across to defend against the blow she aimed at him._

_Using the momentum of the block, she turned an agile somersault over his left shoulder and landed behind him. He came fully to his knee and turned quickly. She was good, but he sought to test her further. He came at her, pulling no punches, moving so quickly he knew she fought to keep up with him, barely blocking the blows he made, and giving ground with each – but still she managed._

_"Good," he murmured, hardly out of breath. Step by step he brought her closer to the bulkhead wall until she had nowhere left to go. He knew he could not let her live, even as fascinated with her as he was, but there was no reason that her destruction had to be a wasteful one… or in fact unpleasant… for either of them. Her eyes darted one way and then another, trying to find an opening, to make an attack of her own. He encouraged her, telegraphing an opening that was not really there. She lashed out suddenly. Easily he caught her wrist and pressed her against the wall, stepping forward to do so with the whole of him. His fingers grazed her wrist, and then passed over her palm to entwine with hers; hold her in place as he pushed his right hand against her chest._

A rage… a burning sensation deep inside of him cut him from his memories, stealing his breath, and almost bringing him to his knees. He caught himself on the side of one of the workbenches in the room, cursed himself. He had left himself open, vulnerable and careless in his fatigue; his desire for swift completion his downfall.

_=how __**dare**__ you!= =dare you!= =dare!=_

Two of his hybrid soldiers came to his side, frowning at him in concern. He waved them away urgently.

"We must _take_ the equipment we came to use and leave quickly!" he snapped, taking a breath.

"But—"

"She knows we are here!"

_-you cannot prevail- - cannot prevail- -prevail-_

Around him his hybrids bustled into action. He kept his place, his knuckles white with effort as he gripped the side of the bench, his mind locked with hers, keeping her from any other thought, from any other action…

_=I will come for you= =come for you= =come=_

_-that place is no longer yours- -no longer yours- not yours-_

_The rage and jealousy flared again, flooding through him. She assaulted him with images of Milla, her soft sweet flesh corrupted with the taint of the Hive organism, burning with the fever of it. In angry amusement he pushed back, refusing to be baited. At last she pushed against those parts of his mind that he kept shielded…_

He growled, summoning all his anger against her intrusion, and in that rage overturned the bench on that he gripped, sending glass and other equipment to shatter against the hard floor, and his hybrids scurrying away so as not to be caught within his wrath.

**

_She saw unravelling spirals that she did not understand, multicoloured strands that left her reeling with uncertainty… a human child, a woman and a man…_

_Why have you never—_

_What are we to—_

_I don't care about—_

_I was hoping you would—_

_He pushed against her presence, all his anger, all the rage and strength she so remembered, used against her now, the pain was tangible, almost physical…_

She snarled, and lashed out blindly, narrowly missing her Commander who reached for her in concern.

"My Queen…"

She gasped, her eyes flashing open, and hissed angrily at him, until he stepped back and dropped to his knees in submission.

"Forgive me," he craved.

She took another breath and calmed. She could not allow the Renegade she sought to raise her temper so much. She knew that by the time she could dispatch any to the location from which she had felt him, he would be long gone. A wasted journey, chasing shadows, would do little for the confidence of those beneath her.

"It is nothing, my Commander," she purred and rose from her place to bring him to his feet before her, and to assure him of her attention.

"We have intercepted a transmission, my Queen. One in which I believe you will be interested," he told her.

_=continue=_

She breathed against the back of his neck, sliding her hands over and around him, the anger of before turning to the desire of now. It had been too long… and though it must, or necessity, remain a while still, she teased herself with the notion of it.

"One of our non-subordinate Hives… was contacted by their human servants… within their feeding grounds." He clearly struggled to give the report under the teasing ministrations she bestowed. "The report was of a human woman… she… enquired of the soldiers belonging to the Abomination."

At his words, however, all thought of teasing ceased.

"Take us to that location. Subdue that Hive." she ordered.

"At once, My Queen,"

_=I will find her= =will find her= =find her=_

**

She hadn't gone far on her first foray out into the ship. It felt to her that with each twist and turn of the corridors she was getting more and more lost, further and further away from any hope of safety, should anything happen. Nor did she wish to accidentally stumble on one of those storage chambers she'd heard existed inside the Hive ships, where the Wraith stored their human food for later consumption.

Besides which, she didn't feel so good. The headache that had developed following her last meeting with the Queen had remained, pounding away behind her eyes, and her limbs felt heavy. And with the way she was trembling with cold she thought it likely that she was running a temperature. It was hardly any surprise to her that she'd caught a chill, wearing so little on a ship like this.

Slowly she made her way back to Todd's laboratory. While she didn't expect he'd be able to produce a bottle of Tylenol, as the resident scientist on the Hive ship, he was still the best candidate for being able to make her feel better – if he was even awake yet.

He wasn't.

She sighed, and started looking at the jars and vials on the top of his workbench. She took the stopper out of one and took an incautious breath, inhaling the scent of it. Her eyes instantly ran with tears, her throat burned and she felt the room swimming even more than it had been before. Quickly she replaced the stopper and, deciding it was probably a dangerous exercise anyway, found a place to sit and wait for Todd to wake, resting her head in her hands as she did.

Something startled her awake and she turned, almost falling from the stool on which she was sitting in her haste to turn around. He stood a little way from her, watching her silently for a long while before he spoke.

"Alicia," he said softly, "thank you."

Perhaps it was his use of her first name that made her blush, and with the blush the aching in her head increased tenfold, and she shivered. With an effort she pushed away the discomfort.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

He tilted his head, "I was not so far gone that I did not know what you tried to do."

"Yeah, well," she started, the words coming out broken, her sentence fragmented, "Don't… get any… funny ideas from it, I—" She stopped when he looked at her in confusion. "She said I should— and you—You don't, do you? I mean… Wraith don't—"

"If you completed a sentence I might know what it is you are trying to ask," he said with amusement in his voice.

"You know damn well what I mean," she snapped, embarrassment making her angry. "She implied that if you wanted to, I should—"

"Ah," he interrupted nonchalantly, understanding registering on his face, "she sent you to my bed."

He took a step toward her and, slipping from the stool she backed up a step. "I told you," she said, "Don't… get… any—"

Her rapid movement sent the room spinning around her. Suddenly there were a dozen Todds all coming at her from different directions. She tried to avoid them all but her legs felt like water under her and she was sure the sound she could hear was the whimper she felt in the back of her throat.

One of his arms slipped around her waist, supportively, and it burned against her skin, bringing another whimper from her suddenly parched throat. Far from trying to push him away, she reached up and clung to the front of his shirt as his other hand came to rest at the side of her neck.

"How long have you been feeling like this?" he asked, worry more than evident in his voice. She wanted to answer, but she realised how tired she was, and closed her eyes. "Alicia, look at me!"

"Hmm?" she opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Todd, I don't feel well."

"How long?" he repeated, and she felt her feet leave the floor as he lifted her and began to carry her across the room.

"I don't know," she let her head fall against his shoulder, "An hour… maybe…. two…?"

"Did anyone else see you like this?" he asked in the same way.

She frowned in confusion, lifting her head again to try and see him. "What? No, I… I don't think so, I—" She broke off when she saw where he was taking her, and started to struggle weakly in his arms, "Oh no, you… just because she said you could, I—"

**

He set her down then, held her in place on his cot. He would hold her until she exhausted her struggles against him if necessary. "Alicia Vega, listen to me, you are sick. I think I can help you, but you _must_ stop fighting me."

"You _think_ you can help?" she stopped struggling and made a grab for his shirt instead, "What do you mean, you… think?"

"Before you were sent to us, the one you call Michael infected you with the Hoffan Protein. I have been working to perfect a cure for the disease, but I cannot be certain that it will be effective."

He saw fear and understanding enter her face as his words finally got through to her.

"Please…" She made another attempt to reach for him, but he caught her hand, and pressed it back down against the top of the bed as he covered her with a blanket. If he could administer his treatment, and it took effect before any other saw her, then all would not yet be lost. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and, for just a moment, a feeling of sympathy began to stir inside him. "Help me… I'm going to die…?"

He pushed aside the feeling. If she died, then it meant that he had failed, and if he failed in this, then the chances of his own survival became little more than slim.

"Not if I can help it," he assured her.

**

"Remember," Sheppard said to the team as they assembled after coming through the Gate. "These are Wraith Worshippers, they're likely to shoot first, ask questions later. The communication McKay intercepted says they have a woman captive, she was here asking about Michael's people. It's likely Teyla. We go in, we find her, get her out, and come home. Questions?" He looked around as the marines, and Ronon, shook their heads. He didn't expect there would have been questions. It was fairly straightforward after all. "All right, now, we don't have much time. The message has already been sent to the Wraith, so… we're on the clock here. Let's move out."

A movement at the side of the cobbled road caught his attention, a flash of colour among the green of the foliage and he realised, too late, that they had been overheard. The native broke cover a moment later and took off at a sprint toward the nearby village.

"Stop that man!" he ordered. "No weapons."

One of the marines launched himself after the local, who, after only a moment or two, veered off toward a wooded hillside. If he made the woods, the chances were that he would never keep up with him. The local knew the terrain and would be able to double back and make his way to the village to warn them. He sighed. They would just have to keep him busy for long enough that _they_ could reach the village first.

"You two," he pointed to two of the remaining team, "Head off after Staube, the rest of you, with me." he sighed again and, kicking at a rock in frustration, snapped, "Damn it! Is there anything else that could go wrong today?"

**

"Incoming wormhole," Banks said calmly. "It's SGC, Sir."

"Lower the shield," Woolsey ordered and started down the steps toward the floor of the Gate Room.

The man that stepped through the Gate was tall, and dark, and not at all handsome. His face was scarred on the one side, and the story was that one of his former patients had covered him with gasoline and set him on fire. His blue eyes were completely devoid of warmth as he swept his gaze around the Gate Room, and the dark suit that he wore only accentuated the impression of a brooding, crow-like presence.

Behind him, members of his team began to emerge from the wormhole, carrying boxes, or pushing larger crates on wheels. There were five of them, all fully laden.

Finally Reuben Varnerin finished his inspection of the environment and turned his gaze Woolsey's way.

"Richard Woolsey," he greeted the man, and though he sounded glad, and held out his hand for the requisite handshake, the coldness in his eyes did not change.

"Professor Varnerin," Woolsey said, shaking the man by the hand and gesturing toward the interior of the city. "Welcome to Atlantis."

"Hmm," the man answered as the wormhole disengaged behind him. "I will need assistance interfacing my equipment with the city's power and information systems."

"Of course. I'll have Doctor McKa—"

"No!" Varnerin's voice was like a bullet. "The Czech… what is his name… Zelenka? He will do."

Woolsey blinked, "All right," he said slowly, "But Doctor McKay is—"

"Didn't you hear me, Richard? I said Zelenka would be fine." he said slowly, then raised an eyebrow expectantly. "My area?"

"Of course," Woolsey shook his head, caught completely off guard, and started to move toward the corridor that led to the laboratories that had been allocated to the professor. "This way, please."


	4. Act 4

**Act 4**

"At least we managed to get this far without any trouble," Sheppard whispered to Ronon as the two of them sheltered at the side of one of the outlying buildings of the village.

"Yeah," Ronon agreed, "but I still favour a more direct approach."

"Ordinarily, I'd agree with you," Sheppard said, and then nodded outward from where they were sheltering. Someone was approaching and they would have to get a hold of him before he could raise the alarm, since there was no way he would miss them.

"Maybe he can tell us where they're holding her," Ronon murmured as he got to his feet, flattened against the side of the building, ready to grab the villager as soon as he was close enough.

"I wouldn't count on it," Sheppard warned, and moved back a little to give Ronon space to work.

It was over within seconds. As the scuff of a footfall sounded right beside the building, Ronon's fist flew out into the open. Sheppard winced as he heard the blow land heavily. He'd been on the receiving end of that fist once or twice and his jaw ached even at the memory of it. Ronon followed his fist around the side of the building and soon came back, half carrying, half dragging the struggling man in his arms, his hand clamped across the prisoner's mouth.

Though he had no intention of using it, Sheppard pulled out his handgun and pressed it against the man's throat. The man's eyes went wide with fear.

"Hi," he said with a sarcastic smile, "if you plan on living past the next few minutes, you're going to quieten down and tell me what I want to know. Then the worst thing that'll happen to you is that I'll let him hit you again. Follow?"

In Ronon's restraining grasp, the man nodded, and Sheppard gestured to the former runner, who fixed a snarling expression on his face before he cautiously let the man go.

The villager sat up, pressed himself against the wall of the building, still staring in fear at the gun with which Sheppard kept him covered.

"You have a prisoner here. A woman," Ronon said, the words rumbling in his chest.

"The Lantean? What of her?" he asked softly.

Sheppard exchanged a glance with Ronon, "Well, you're going to tell us where you're holding her, that's what of her."

"Where we hold all of our prisoners," the man answered, somewhat arrogantly, Sheppard thought.

"Which is…?" Ronon said. His impatience was clear in his voice. He took up his own weapon and pointed it at the man's head.

"The inn," the man stammered, suddenly fearful once more, "the… the… the basement at the inn."

Sheppard nodded, "Thank you, you've been very helpful," he said, and then looked meaningfully at Ronon. As the last word left Sheppard's mouth, Ronon lashed out and caught the man square on the jaw, sending him quickly into unconsciousness.

"I still think we should have killed him," he said as Sheppard secured the man's hands behind his back and tied a gag into his mouth.

"He's a non-combatant, Ronon," he said, shaking his head.

"He's a _Wraith Worshipper_," Ronon corrected, sneaking a look around the side of the building. "His kind would betray their own grandmother, given half the chance."

Sheppard sat for a moment, staring at Ronon until the Satedan warrior turned and gave him a puzzled frown. "What?" he asked, sounding a little uncomfortable.

"How come you're the scary one, when I'm the one with the big gun?" he asked, half serious, nudging the P90 that he had slung around his neck.

Ronon grinned, grimly and fiercely. "It's all in the teeth, Sheppard," he said, "and the beard. I'm sure the beard has something to do with it."

Sheppard shook his head again, and keyed his headset mic. "All units," he said quietly, "this is Sheppard. Target is the inn. Repeat… the inn at the centre of the village is our target. Move in."

**

Teyla suddenly gasped and looked up, as if she could see through the layers of the inn to the Hive she suddenly felt entering planetary orbit. Shaking the man by the lapels, where she suddenly grabbed him, she growled urgently, "There is no more time. They are here. Tell me _now!_"

"What good will it do you? You're a prisoner, you—" he suddenly broke off as she twisted her hands and pushed him against the metal of the bars, his airway restricted. "All right, all right," he gasped. "Mikalos… I come from Mikalos."

Teyla closed her eyes for a moment. Mikalos had once been one of the best of the Athosians' trading partners. Once, she had known it well and she mourned what she imagined had become of it since they had fallen into sympathy with Michael and his terrible schemes.

Dropping the man she held, she quickly began searching around. One thing he had said held an undeniable truth. She _was_ a prisoner, and if she could not find freedom before the Wraith came, then she would never be able to act on the knowledge she now possessed, of the sympathisers of Mikalos. She could not allow herself to be taken by the Wraith.

**

The time for caution and secrecy had long since passed. Sheppard led his team storming into the centre of the village. The threat of their weapons was enough to keep most of the villagers from taking action. Those that did were quickly taken out with well placed shots that served as further deterrent against reciprocal action… until they reached the inn.

Ronon launched himself at the door, which splintered under the impact of his massive bulk – as did the heavy chair that awaited him on the other side, wielded by an equally bear-like villager.

He growled and, ignoring the pain, lashed out to grab the man by the throat, and drive him against the bar. He had to clear the doorway and allow the others inside. The grizzly man clamped the steel band of his grip around Ronon's wrist and began to pull, trying to get free. At the same time, he made a fist of his other hand and drove it repeatedly into Ronon's side. The pain increased with each blow, but still he ignored it. Teyla was here… somewhere… and they had to free her.

"Stand down, Ronon," Sheppard ordered and, a moment later, he realised that the man was no longer punching him. Breathless, and still angry, he let go of the man's throat and stepped backwards, beginning to turn and walk away.

"Now," Sheppard said calmly, "We don't particularly want any more trouble, so why don't you tell us where to find our friend and we—"

As Sheppard spoke, everything about the whole situation… about Teyla, the baby, Woolsey, Michael… everything rose to assault Ronon, spiralling around inside his incredible anger. Turning back he snatched up his blaster from its holster and, hardly bothering to aim, fired a single shot at the bear who still leaned, gasping, against the bar. He didn't even wait for the man to slump to the side, simply stepped over him and grabbed the innkeeper by the front of his shirt and half pulled him across the counter, to roar into his face.

"Where is she!"

The innkeeper pointed to a door at the side of the room, and slumped over the bar as soon as Ronon let him go. Ronon strode in that direction, his gun leading the way.

"Nobody moves," Sheppard ordered the marines he left on guard, as he moved to follow Ronon.

**

Footsteps descending the rough wooden steps made her flatten herself against the side of the basement wall, abandoning her attempt to pry open the lock with the edge of the metal plate she had found in the corner of the cell.

"Teyla!"

She gasped in surprise as she heard Sheppard's voice, and moved back to grip the bars of the door so that he would see her.

"John?" she voiced her surprise when she saw him at the foot of the stairs, hurrying past Ronon.

"We're going to get you out of there," he told her, and stumbled only slightly as Ronon pushed him aside with one hand and raised the weapon he held in the other.

"Stand aside," Ronon told her.

Quickly she moved as far away from the lock as she could, and still be standing by the bars. The lock soon disintegrated under the blast from Ronon's weapon, allowing him to push open the door.

"Ronon," She took his hand as he reached for her and allowed him to pull her to his side. "Not a moment too soon. The Wraith—"

Sheppard's earpiece crackled with momentary static, and then the voice of one of the marines warned, "_Colonel Sheppard, we've got company, inbound._"

"Fall back to the woods," he ordered, glancing around, "We'll find another way out of here."

As he spoke, Ronon pointed upwards, to a small hatch at the top of the side wall. "Beer hatch… always is one in this kind of place," he said softly.

**

She let out a soft moan as he slipped a hand beneath her neck to raise her head enough that she could drink the liquid without choking. The blanket slipped away from her as he did, and Vega shivered, making a trembling grab for the soft woollen cover.

"C-cold," she whimpered, pushing away the hand that held the bowl to her lips.

"Far from it," Todd told her patiently, concerned. "You have a fever. You must drink."

"No, I'm cold…" she moaned. Her open eyes seemed glazed, and she turned her head away from the bowl, reaching for him. "Hold me…"

Todd blinked, and then frowned. "Alicia, you do not know where you are," he told her, "You are delirious. You _must_ drink this water."

Growling just a little, he lifted her into a still more upright position, supporting her against his shoulder with his arm across her back, as he brought the bowl to her lips again. This time he gave the slightest of mental pushes to the command to drink.

_~you must drink~ ~must drink~ ~drink~_

At last she acquiesced, drinking slowly at first, but as she began to realise her thirst, more eagerly.

"When he first started to develop the drug it took approximately one in every six of them this way." Todd frowned and looked toward the alcove from which the hybrid spoke. "They all died. You're wasting your time."

She gave a little cough, and pushed the bowl away, making an almost desperate grab for his hand as the water spilled over her… little as it was, she acted as though she was drowning.

"And yet…" Todd rumbled, still looking across at the hybrid, who stood dispassionately watching the two of them. "…you are here, and are infected. Therefore he must have found a way to neutralise the issue causing this reaction."

"You're assuming that he didn't just start over and take a different route," the hybrid said.

"Your attempt to persuade me that I am wasting my time tells me that he did not," Todd answered.

"Touché," the hybrid admitted. "But it took him a long while – longer than your friend there has. Based on the clinical presentation there are way too many possibilities. You might get lucky, seize on the right one first time, but…" He shrugged. "I doubt it."

"And I suppose you are about to suggest that if I… refrain from experimenting on you, you will tell me which of these avenues of possibility I should investigate first." Todd raised an eyebrow.

"I know that I won't survive your experiments," the hybrid confirmed softly. "And I very much want to continue living."

Trembling against him, Vega let go of his hand and reached to touch the side of his face. At the touch he turned his gaze from the hybrid and looked down at her.

"Please, Todd," she whispered, her voice full of pain and fear, "don't let me die."

Todd breathed out long and slow. He frowned, and barely tilted his head at her appeal. It would be easy to do that – to turn the situation around and report to the Queen that the Abomination had planted a poisoned apple in their midst and that he had been the instrument of the Queen's salvation, the removal of the threat to her, in discovering the infection in the girl.

"Please…" she whispered again, and her hand trembled against the side of his neck.

On the other hand, her death would weaken his position; his ability could be called into question, and perhaps his resources limited only to those he needed in connection with his work for the Queen. He would no longer have the satisfaction of knowing that at any moment the Queen could make a fatal mistake and that his could be the power to save her, and displace all those that would come before him.

He let out another long, almost hissed sigh, on the end of the breath he finally voiced his thoughts. "Alicia Vega, what are you to me?"

**

"Teyla," Sheppard called her name, and when she turned his way he tossed a weapon to her so that she could cover them as they climbed from the hatch. As he rolled topside, and reached back down for Ronon's hand, he couldn't help but smile. The burst of P90 fire toward the incoming Wraith… Teyla giving cover… it was just like old times.

He touched her shoulder lightly when he and Ronon were clear of the building, but it was a redundant gesture. As soon as Ronon reached her side he pulled his blaster and started firing shot after shot at the small group of Wraith that had been beamed down into the centre of the village. It did not take long to eliminate them entirely.

As soon as the last of the Wraith fell to the combined assault of Teyla's and Ronon's fire, she turned to Sheppard and tossed the weapon back in his direction.

"We have to leave," she said.

"Sure we do, just—" he stopped as she immediately began heading for the road that led to the Gate. "Teyla, wait up!"

She turned and walked backwards a way, her face set into a determined and serious expression. "I am sorry, John, I cannot afford to wait."

"Where are you going?" Ronon asked, sounding hurt.

"Back to the Stargate," she answered, turning again to walk on.

"But there will be Wraith there," Sheppard protested, hurrying a few steps to catch up to her.

"Not yet," she stopped walking and turned to face him, gripping his arms. As they stood, part way between the village and the Gate, the marines that Sheppard had ordered to the woods began to emerge, to join them, forming a protective perimeter around them.

"This planet _belongs _to the Wraith. That," Teyla gestured back to the village, "is a village of Wraith Worshippers. The Wraith are not here to cull, and so do not need to prevent the use of the Gate. Not until the pilot of the Dart that set the commander and his soldiers down in the village reports their loss to the Hive—"

"Uh, Teyla?" Ronon interrupted her lecture, glancing skyward.

"Oh, crap!" Sheppard spat, also looking up, and watching as the Wraith Cruiser descended into view.

"There is no more time!" Teyla cried, and suddenly letting go of Sheppard, began to run along the cobbled road.

"Teyla!" Sheppard called after her.

"Teyla, wait!" Ronon shouted, taking off after her.

**

As she broke from the group, even before the others called her name, he frowned, and knowing he shouldn't let her get away, began to raise his weapon. She'd defected… he'd been told that… why hadn't they restrained her? He didn't understand.

If he waited much longer she'd be out of effective range.

**

"What the—" Sheppard spun around as soon as the firing began, ordering frantically, "Stand down! Hold your fire!"

Ronon veered from running down the road to sprint toward the soldier that was firing on Teyla, rushing at him, roaring loudly as he went, and trying not to put himself in the line of fire.

"Stop him!" Sheppard yelled to the other marines who, caught off guard by their companion's rogue action, were slow to respond.

Ronon took a running leap and tackled the man head on, sending him flying, and the rest of his gunfire, brief as it was once the angry Satedan had reached him, harmlessly skyward.

**

It felt as though someone had taken a poker from a hot fire and used it to beat against her side and her hip. The impact sent her spinning to sprawl on the hard cobbles. She was only yards from the Gate, and at first did not comprehend what had happened.

"Teyla!"

She heard Sheppard's cry, barely registered the alarmed tone. All she could think was that he would try to take her back to Atlantis; try to prevent her from finding her son.

"No, John," she murmured as she forced herself to her feet again. "I am sorry."

Adrenalin raced through her bloodstream as she began to move, hearing him calling her name, hearing the angry shouts from Ronon… She had no choice but to go on. Pressing her hand against her suddenly painful hip, she forced her feet to carry her toward the DHD, feeling that gathering Wraith presence and knowing she had so little time. She hit the podium almost at a run and dialled the first few symbols with a bloodied hand.

"Teyla, don't!" Sheppard called again, coming closer.

"John, go back!" she cried out to him as she dialled the rest of the address. "I have to do this!"

The wormhole whooshed into being, for a moment cutting off her sight of his approach. When it stabilised, he was standing at the edge of the clearing.

"Please, Teyla, you don't have to do this alone." He held out his hand to her.

"Yes, Colonel Sheppard, I do." She shook her head, stepping closer to the event horizon. "None of you can understand. He is my son… I am his mother, and I. Need. Him in my arms. And if that means that I must harry Michael to the very _ends_ of this galaxy, then that is what I will do."

"I get that," he said, taking a step closer, "I do, but—"

"No buts, John Sheppard," she stood by the wormhole, "As much as you might want… to help me… others of your people do not."

"Teyl—!"

**

"…others of your people do not."

She took another step closer to the event horizon, and Sheppard took a frantic step toward her. If they lost her again they might never find her, and she was hurt… shot… and bleeding.

"Teyl—" he started to call out for her and sprinted the last few steps. He tried frantically to burn the memory of the lighted symbols on the DHD into his memory. "Damn it!"

"Colonel Sheppard!" one of the marines called for him as he stood running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"What?" he spun around and started back down the road, toward where the others had the subdued marine, and the enraged Satedan, separated.

"He said it was a standing order from Hollick!" Ronon spat, held between two struggling marines, enraged.

"You better hope he confirms that when he comes round, soldier – if he comes round." Sheppard seethed, meaning to let the matter drop until later, but suddenly thinking of all of the possibilities for disaster that could arise from the soldier's action, he appealed, "Do you even _realise_ what you've done?"

"I was following orders, sir… attempting to neutralise a dangerous—"

Ronon broke free of the restraining soldiers and started swinging his fists, incensed, at the young marine.

"Ronon!" Sheppard moved toward him. "Ronon, stop! Stop! This doesn't help Teyla!"

Risking getting hit himself, Sheppard put himself directly between the marine and the Satedan warrior. He closed his eyes as the big fist came swinging directly for his face, and held his breath. A moment later, when he did not feel excruciating pain in his nose or jaw, he risked opening one eye… and then the other to look into the snarling face of his Satedan friend.

"Get out of my way, Sheppard," Ronon said in a low voice.

"Look, the best way we can help Teyla is to get back to Atlantis, and have McKay figure out the address. I saw most of it… he can figure it out," he said. "Getting stuck here with the Wraith descending on us is not the way to go."

"You better be right," Ronon snarled, beginning to straighten up, and starting to turn toward the Gate.

Sheppard took a breath, and let it out slowly as his friend started walking away. As they reached the Gate, and started dialling, Sheppard called his name softly.

"What?" Ronon snapped, moodily.

"Definitely the beard," he said.

Ronon growled.

**

It had been a short battle… barely a battle at all in fact, and it irritated Todd that he had been summoned, along with the Commander, to be present in the Elder Queen's chamber, when the Queen, and Commander of the subdued Hive were brought aboard to swear their allegiance. It interrupted his research, and his experimentation, and he could not afford the time for that.

"What is this…" the Queen pushed with her toe at the bound and whimpering human the subordinate Wraith faction had brought with them into her presence. "…offal you bring before me?"

"He claims he knows where the woman prisoner will go," the Subordinate-Queen answered. "Says she asked about the Creature his people serve."

"Release him," the Queen instructed, and her Commander stepped forward with a knife to cut the man's bonds.

Todd felt the Queen's emotions echoing around the chamber, gathering strength at the mention of the woman.

"If you wish to live…" she started as the man began to sit up. Her tone was mild, curious. She stared at him for a long time, tilting her head first one way and then the other… as she did, the calm expression melted from her face, her eyes hardened again and she tensed with badly concealed anger. "…then you will tell me everything you know of this woman…"

"Teyla!" the man cried out in abject terror, debasing himself in front of the Elder Queen. "I heard the other Lanteans call her by that name. Her name is Teyla!"

Todd frowned. He had heard that name… Sheppard's friend, the scientist – McKay – had said something about her being a prisoner of the Abomination. Had she escaped him? Was that why they pursued her now…? But no, it was more than that he felt from the Queen. It was anger, a burning hatred… jealousy.

_=The net is closing. Your research… it is ready?=_

_~progressing, my Queen~_

Todd gathered every part of him to make the lie convincing. He had been concentrating almost solely on the solution to the Hoffan problem that had presented itself in Vega, and his primary reason for having been brought aboard the Elder Queen's Hive had been pushed aside.

"And where," The Elder Queen leaned down and stroked the backs of her fingers down the terrified man's cheek, "did you say she would go?"

"M-m-my home world," he stammered in answer, "Mikalos,"

The Elder Queen looked up at her Subordinate-Queen in query. "Where is this place?"

"My Commander searched the human's mind," the Subordinate-Queen answered lightly, "We can… transmit the coordinates to your Commander."

"No!" The Queen's voice was whip-like, and the mental echo of it painful even to Todd, at whom it was not directed. The Subordinate-Queen shrank backwards, almost stumbled, and a trickle of blood began to run from her nose.

_=how dare you believe you could deceive me!=_

"Forgive me… Elder!" the Subordinate-Queen inclined her head. "My Commander will remain aboard your Hive to guide you with information, as you desire."

"And you will return to your own Hive, and await my instruction."

"Yes… Elder."

**

McKay came hurrying down the steps to the Gate Room as Sheppard and the others stepped out from the Stargate. He looked first one way, and then another.

"Well… where is she?" he asked.

"We lost her," Sheppard said in distaste.

"What… what do you mean, you lost her?" McKay stammered, "How hard can it be, I—"

"What he means," Ronon growled, "is that she got away from us, Gated to another world after getting shot at by this—"

"Shot? Teyla was shot?"

"Listen, McKay," Sheppard said as he beckoned the city security forward, "We don't have time for explanations right now. I have a partial address, and the chances are that a Wraith Hive is already en route to the planet that address leads to as we speak." He broke off to instruct the security detail to escort the young marine to the brig. "So what I need you to do is to find me that address, and dial the Gate so we can get back out there and find Teyla before they do."

"Of course," Rodney said, obviously pushing aside the questions, "Give me what you have…" he held up a tablet toward Sheppard.

He quickly scribbled down the symbols he could remember being lit, and then, as McKay hurried back to the control room, Sheppard tapped his headset mic. "Keller, this is Sheppard."

"_Go ahead, Colonel, what can I do for you?_"

"I need a field medic with a medical kit ready to go, like yesterday."

"He _got_ her?" Ronon asked, horrified.

"Looked like just a flesh wound, but… there's no telling," Sheppard answered Ronon, and then, since Keller had not answered him, added, "Doctor?"

"_I'm sorry, Colonel, I'm the only one available right now and—_"

"Then grab your gear and meet me in the Gate Room in five. McKay?"

"I'm working!" he called down from the control room. "Almost there…"

"Delta team, this is Sheppard," he called the team on standby, almost picturing them suddenly scrambling from where they waited, never expecting to be called on their 'standby' days. "Report to the Gate Room immediately."

"Colonel Sheppard, what's doing on?" Woolsey came to a surprised halt as he walked into the Gate Room crowded with the marines of Alpha team and the ordnance officers re-equipping the soldiers.

"We have a positive location on some of Michael's people," Sheppard said, "I'm assembling a strike team."

It was only half the truth. He deliberately neglected to mention the fact that Teyla was on her way there, because he couldn't think of a way to put it that Woolsey would not misconstrue.

"I got it!" McKay called down from the control room, "M5B-217."

"Do we have a go?" Sheppard asked Woolsey, his voice urgent.

Truth was, he was going with or without the official word from Woolsey, but he would prefer to go with his blessing. That way it couldn't come back to bite him on the ass.

"What?" Woolsey asked, sounding momentarily surprised, "Yes. Yes of course, Colonel. You have a go."

As the Delta team and Doctor Keller arrived, and everyone assembled a safe distance from the Gate, McKay came hurrying down the stairs to join them, pocketing electronic gadgets as he came.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, McKay?" Sheppard asked.

"I'm coming with you," he said, and judging from the grim determination Sheppard saw on his face, nothing he could have said would change McKay's mind.

**

She paused to lean against the rocky outcrop at the side of the road. From the high ground on which the Gate stood she knew that, even though she had not taken the wider path down the rocky hillside, she was heading in the right direction, but it was a long way, and she was nearing exhaustion. She once more pressed her hand against her side to check that the makeshift bandage was holding and cried out a little as the touch disturbed the wound. She had to rest… and soon.

Night was falling, and already there was a chill in the air. She would need to find a place to shelter and doubted that she would get much closer to the settlement without detection. She fixed her gaze on the lone building up ahead, nestled between the rocks as it was, and resolved to rest once she had reached it.

As she started to move, the path beneath her tilted a little and she stumbled, reaching out to catch herself again, before she fell. The movement jarred her already aching hip, and for a moment she waited, breathing away tears of hurt and frustration, and no little mounting fear.

Gathering her resolve she started again down the sloping path toward the small stone built building. As she got closer she could see smoke rising from a small chimney in the side of it, and a light flickered within, against the gathering gloom, from out of the window space.

For a long time, she stopped and waited, lowering herself behind a low wall to watch the house, for that was what she had decided it must be. She knew the people of this world were in sympathy with Michael, and did not wish to simply walk back into captivity. Her aim was to find him on her own terms, to take Nethaiye from him and… and then what? She had not thought beyond that point. When she had her son, what then of Michael?

Light spilled over her suddenly, and she raised an arm to shield her eyes, peering up at the dark silhouette standing over her with the lantern raised, caught… _careless, _she cursed herself.

"It will be a cold night," a voice said. There was no menace in the tone, and he sounded puzzled or concerned. "You'd do well to continue on to the town, or if you will, perhaps come inside to warm yourself by our fire."

"How did you—?"

"My boy watched you come down from the Ring. Folk don't usually take this path any more," he said. "They take the wider road, so… when he said he saw you coming down the trail I knew you'd probably wanted a quiet arrival in town."

"Yes, I—"

"Goodness sakes, girl, come inside. We don't bite, we have a warm fire, and there's food aplenty." he lowered the lantern and held out a hand to her, and after only a moment's hesitation she reached out and took it, accepting his help to rise. He frowned when he saw her side. "You're hurt."

"It is nothing," she said.

"No, you're bleeding, that is not 'nothing.'" he turned his head then, and called to someone inside, "Lydia, put water on the fire to warm, she's hurt."

"Thank you," Teyla said, her voice shaking a little.

"We've a reputation for hospitality," he told her softly as he started to lead her inside, "And just because that's been the cause of many of our troubles here, doesn't mean that some of us won't uphold what we've always stood for."

**

Todd finished drawing the sample of Vega's blood and gently tucked her arm back beneath the blanket. He sat for a moment on the side of the cot, looking down at the pale, almost luminous quality in her skin, as the fever had leeched much of her colour from her once vibrant complexion. Her breathing was laboured, and shallow, but at least she breathed.

"She is very weak," the hybrid said from his alcove. "You haven't much time."

"Instead of you warning me of what I do not have," Todd snapped, half turning his head to look in the direction of the hybrid. "Perhaps some useful information would help to save the girl… and yourself."

"I told you," the hybrid replied belligerently, "It's in the amino acid chains."

"You told me that preventing the thermal, condensing reaction in the formation of the peptide bonds would help to reduce the fever. _That_ is what I have done, and _this_ is the result." Todd snapped. "She has become dehydrated, and is in danger of becoming hypothermic."

"That's the point," the hybrid said, "You're not _thinking,_ Wraith. The effect of the protein in the first place—"

"Enough!" Todd cut off the hybrid's words.

His raised voice startled Vega toward wakefulness and she whimpered, turning her head away from the sound. He reached out to lift away a strand of hair that had fallen across her face, to push it back behind her ear and to draw up the blanket a little more, to keep in what small amount of heat her body still provided to her.

She opened her eyes as he did. Her gaze fixed on his hand, which hovered near her shoulder, at the top of her chest. She drew back against the cot, putting as much distance between his hand and her body, her eyes pleading… afraid.

Frowning he drew his hand away, turned his palm to look at the feeding slit on his hand. He let out a long, voiced sigh.

"I'm so tired," she whispered. "Please, just—"

It hit him with such force the realisation actually made him gasp softly. The enzyme inhibitors within the Hoffan protein were reacting against _her_ naturally occurring enzymes. The compound was failing to anneal with her human cells, as it was designed to do, and so instead of remaining dormant until the presence of foreign enzymes were introduced to trigger its reaction, it was active in her system.

He let his hand fall against the top of her chest for just a second, almost patting her in reassurance, before he got to his feet and hurried to the equipment in the centre of the laboratory.

"Todd?" she questioned.

"Why hasn't the protein been absorbed by the cells in her blood?" he fired the question at the hybrid, even as he set a drop of her blood onto the computer sensor for analysis.

"Antigens," the hybrid answered. "He found the Hoffan protein has two specific nucleic patterns, one of which attaches to a particular antigen. Where that antigen isn't present—"

"—the secondary nucleic pattern-type is prevented from being absorbed by the aggressiveness of the primary one," Todd finished, watching the results flash across his screen, "Of course…"

"Todd?" Vega repeated, struggling weakly to try and get out of bed.

"And having no attachment—"

"—the protein does what it was designed to do – anneals to the enzyme cells, feeds on them and—"

"—causes cellular breakdown in the organs and systems through which the blood—"

"—carries the protein-enzyme polypeptides." Even as he spoke, Todd unfastened the clasp on his coat and shrugged off the heavy garment, beginning to roll up one of the sleeves of the shirt he wore underneath. As he did he approached the alcove where the hybrid was still chained in place, and passed his hand over the sensor to release the lock. "You will have to help me."

The hybrid shook his head, "It won't be enough, not the method you're planning, you—"

Todd lashed out, grabbing the hybrid by the throat and lifting him from the floor to pin him against the wall of the alcove. "Do not presume to know my mind. You will help me to extract the enzyme that I need, or our agreement is cancelled, and _you_ will be the next one on which I experiment."

"Todd," A light touch against his arm, tremulous and cold, calmed him. He let go of the hybrid, who fell to the deck, rubbing his neck, and turned to support Vega, slipping his arms around her, as she struggled to keep on her feet.

"You must rest, Alicia," he told her softly, almost smiling, for the first time truly believing that he might find the solution to this problem that he and his people faced. "We have many things that we have yet to do together, many discoveries to make. Trust me… I promise I will make it as painless as possible."

**

"Thank you," Teyla said softly, as Lydia finished tying the bandage around her, and drew up the blanket once more over her. She and her husband, Korl, had shown her nothing but compassionate concern, taken her into their home, fed her, cared for her, and now gave her a place to rest for the night in front of their fire.

"So you came here to confront him," Korl asked as he returned to the room, "to take back your son?"

"Nethaiye is but a babe in arms, Korl," Lydia said. Teyla had spoken with the woman at length as she had cleaned and dressed her wounds. "What do they say in the town?"

"Some of our friends are anxious to meet you, Teyla," he said. "In the morning I will go with you into town to meet with them. Some of them may be able to help you more than I can, though—"

Teyla tipped her head, frowning slightly at his hesitation. "Is something wrong, Korl?"

"We must be careful," he told her, "Aneram said that earlier today, some of his men… what did you call them, hybrids…? He said that many have arrived since the afternoon. They have begun to gather some of the equipment they had left here."

"He is leaving," Teyla said, sighing in frustration.

"And closing down his outposts here," Korl confirmed, nodding. "The workers have been sent home already. Many are concerned as to how they will make their living once they are gone. It is soon winter, and our people have not tended their fields and livestock, since there has been no need, these… people have provided for us in return for our diligent work."

"Korl, I am sorry," she said, closing her eyes until Lydia squeezed her arm again.

"You need to rest, not to apologise," she said, and Korl nodded in agreement. "Our people have always been hardy. We will survive."

Teyla sighed again. She could not help but think otherwise, even if she did not give voice to her thoughts.

**

He walked quickly along the bank of liquid filled containment chambers, flicking switches as he went. Inside the tanks, shadowed forms twitched and began to flail as the power that sustained them was cut. The light and heat faded, and the life giving oxygen was cut off from the breathing tubes attached to the growing forms.

"Drain the tanks," he instructed the hybrids that had followed him to the laboratory. "Burn the biogenetic organisms."

Reaching the end of the line of tanks he moved to the stasis unit, and, taking an insulated case from another of his hybrids, he set it on the bench and deactivated the stasis unit, beginning to transfer the contents into the case, quickly and efficiently. To another of those who had accompanied him, he instructed, "Wake those that are close enough to fully transformed and take them aboard the cruiser to finish the process."

"The others?"

"Shut them down," he said, matter of fact, as he closed the case, and handed it to the waiting hybrid for transport to the cruiser.

He turned and watched as the small team of hybrids he brought with him began to carry out their orders, and felt a brief flutter of concern pass through him. What if he had not accounted for everything?

Slowly he walked toward the centre of the laboratory, where the metal operating table stood empty beside the bank of equipment he had built from nothing, from a time when solitude threatened to crush him into madness… when there was nothing, and no one to share his cause…

_He sensed the man drifting toward wakefulness and moved back into the shadows, wanting to observe the one before committing to what would be, from that point, an irrevocable journey._

_"Wha—" the man turned his head one way and then another, trying to free himself from the restraints, and at the same time discover if he were alone. "What is this place? Where am I?"_

_"It is no place you will ever recall," he said softly._

_"What… I… Who are you? Where are you? Show yourself!" Slowly, taking his time, he walked into the pool of light beside the operating table; watched the expression of fear and revulsion cross the man's face. "Who __**are**__ you?"_

_"No one you will ever remember," he answered in the same, soft tones. For several moments he stood, looking down on the helpless Athosian man, smothering the emotions that were threatening his composure. "I have been watching you for some time. You disappoint me."_

_A frown of confusion replaced the other expressions on the man's face, and then on deepening concern, "I can— I feel—"_

_"Yes," Michael breathed and leaned down a hand on either side of Kanaan's shoulders._

_-you sense me- -sense me- -sense-_

_"What __**are**__ you?" Kanaan tried to pull away as Michael increased the pressure of his mind against the Athosian's – more and more with each word he spoke._

_"I am the pariah that lurks in the dark corners of every heart, the demon that waits in the night to corrupt the innocent, pervert the just, and exploit the weak. I am the angel of death that will tear down the hypocrites, expose the false overlords and bring them to their __**knees**__. I. Am. Vengeance."_

_"Stop!" Kanaan screamed, his back arching in fear and pain at the images and thoughts that Michael pushed, in anger, into his mind, "No more! Please… no more…"_

_Michael calmed as quickly as his anger had begun and moved away then, turning to draw a tray of surgical equipment closer to the table – releasing the terrified Athosian from his mental grasp._

_"What," Kanaan gasped, "What are you doing?"_

_"You need not fear," Michael told him, "I have no intention of harming you. Quite the contrary in fact, you and your… affections for Teyla are—"_

_"Teyla?" Kanaan frowned._

_"Enough!" Michael cut him off, picked up a nearby syringe, and quickly injected the contents into the side of Kanaan's neck. "There is work to be done."_

Michael sighed, and for a moment laid his hand on the surface of the operating table. The genetic splice had been a difficult one, technically brilliant, medically unique… potentially fatal.

"Transfer the data to our main facility." he twitched his head a little, taking one last look around. "Destroy the rest of the equipment."

He turned to face his lieutenant as he entered the room, already knowing what the hybrid would tell him, but taking a breath, needing to hear it anyway.

"The Elder's Hive has just left hyperspace and is approaching the planet." the hybrid said as he came to a halt and handed a Wraith tablet to Michael.

"So," Michael said softly, "Time has caught me." He sighed and reviewed the data on the tablet. "All is prepared, the arrangements have been made?"

"Everything is in place," his lieutenant confirmed. "You are certain that is where—"

"It is the only possibility remaining." He nodded once in confirmation, then handed back the tablet. "You have your orders."

"The captive?"

Michael sighed. The experiment had barely finished before he left and he would have liked more time to study the results, which on first glance had appeared to be promising. Too soon to, in any event, to consider the experiment at an end.

"Sustain her. It may well be that we have need of her yet," he answered.

"And Atlantis?"

"Atlantis will take care of itself," Michael answered darkly. "Do only what you must to ensure out plans continue unhindered. I will join you later."

The hybrid lieutenant nodded once and then turned to go. Michael remained, still and quiet, a brooding presence in the remains of the laboratory as, one by one, his loyal army of hybrids left him to carry out their assigned tasks.

**

There was little more that he could do, except to keep her comfortable until the process of creating the serum was complete. He flexed his arm, ignoring the soreness and glanced at the computer. The readout indicated that the process was only sixty-five percent completed. Perhaps the hybrid had been correct. Perhaps it would have been more prudent to call in one of the guards and instruct him to attempt to feed on Vega, giving him more time to perfect the catalyst that would impose the false antigen signature on her blood cells and allow the absorption of the protein. As it stood, it was a race between the creation of the antigen serum and Vega's self annihilation.

He sighed, and finally tore his gaze away from the sleeping woman. In the meantime, he reminded himself, he had work to do. He moved along the workbench to the microscope to view the progress of the cells in the culture, and the effects of the latest biochemical compound on their mutation.

"Promising," he purred as he stood watching them for a while.

"Don't you feel used?" the hybrid behind him asked softly. "I mean, what is it she expects you to do for her? Remove our Wraith DNA? Make us human again and therefore weak?"

"What the Queen wants from me—"

"_The_ Queen, not _your_ Queen?"

"—is of no concern to you."

"Have you given any thought to what will happen if you should succeed?" the hybrid pressed on, refusing to be deterred.

Todd stopped, and drew away from the microscope, then turning to face the hybrid, said, "I have given it a great deal of thought. And above all it will ensure the survival of my kind in a universe that seeks to destroy us."

"But the Queen—"

"She was here at the beginning, and she will see us safely thought this next evolution of history. It is what they _do._" Todd snapped.

"Tell me then," the hybrid asked. "What makes being of your kind deserving of survival, over all others."

"We are Wraith," Todd answered, snarling just a little, and as though that reminded him of his experiment in progress, he began to mix together the required components to create a larger batch of the compound he would use as a test in one of the three remaining hybrids. It would take time to mature, for each of the chemical constituents to complete their reaction and become the drug he would administer, but he had faith that, this time, the results would not be the unrecognisable regression toward a baser life form.

He had not realised he stood staring at the flask, spinning in the centrifuge, until the thrill of the alarm from the other workstation broke in on his non-thought to alert him to the completion of its task.

Picking up the vial in his hand he stared at the deep red serum inside, and then past it to where the human woman lay, pale and dying on his cot.

_"If the full solution still evades you, break the problem down into its component parts and solve each step as a separate entity."_

Here was the first real step toward solving the conundrum the Hoffan protein presented to his people. In curing Vega he would have a live test subject with a modified protein incubating inside of her. A ready source of everything he might need in order to inoculate his people against its effects, and restore their ability to feed as needed.

"One step at a time," he reminded himself. First she had to survive his cure.

**

She blinked up at him as he woke her again. She felt as though she was breathing underwater. She alternated between too hot and too cold, and every nerve, and muscle and bone in her body ached. She'd had flu once – real influenza, not the bad colds that people like to refer to as flu – and it had been nothing like this. Silently, she promised herself that if she ever saw Michael again, she would personally rip out his entrails and feed them to him piece by bloody piece.

She fought to focus her eyes again to find Todd looking at her in concern. In his hand he held a hypodermic syringe.

"What is that?" she asked, her mind clearing enough to realised that he intended to use it on her. "Medicine?"

"Of a kind," he said softly, reaching for her, but she pulled away.

"No," she said to him, "not until you tell me."

"You are sick because your body did not absorb the Hoffan protein as it should have done, and so it remains inside of you, doing to you what it would do to any Wraith that feeds on you."

"And that?" she pointed at the syringe.

"This is a serum that will… make it possible for you to absorb the protein by temporarily altering your blood chemistry."

"Temporarily?"

"Long enough," he said softly.

She looked at him seriously, and took as deep a breath as she could. "There's a but," she surmised, watching the concern that was written all over his face.

"I will need to restrain you." He tilted his head to the side, and she knew that even though she had tried to keep her face neutral, the very thought of restraint sent a prickling, cold terror flooding through her – a craving for death. "I do not imagine the process will be without discomfort, Alicia. It is for you own—"

"No!" she snapped at him, forcing herself away from him, sitting up against the bulkhead a little, "Anything else, just… no restraints."

He raised an eyebrow, "Very well," he agreed. "I will not use restraints."

Taking a shuddering breath, she nodded and allowed him to guide her to lie down again. As he took her arm into his hand she began to tremble almost uncontrollably and she felt the urge to cry as she had not done since she was a very small child. She had known violence, she had known fear… since coming to Atlantis, she had faced both many times over, but to lie there, at the mercy of a Wraith in whose hands she was placing her life – it was insanity… and insanity meant that they would come for her, take her from her bed in the dead of night and strap her to the cold hard gurney; fill—

"Todd!" she reached across to grip his shoulder as she felt the sting of the needle; the cold of the liquid, flooding into her. "Stop… stop… st—!"

He had barely withdrawn the needle when the burning started. It coursed through her body like lighted paraffin. The pain of it startled her, stole what breath she had and drew a deep cry from her as she arched her back from the cot.

Her arms flailed and caught against several bottles and jars on the shelf beside the cot, sending them tumbling to the floor of the laboratory, and those that did not, cutting her hand as they broke against the wall.

She barely felt him lift her against him, his hand behind her head, holding her close against his shoulder, and wrapping his other arm behind her back. She shuddered against him, her fingers making claws against his arms as she clung to him, crying out as the beating of her heart sent the burning serum through her body.

"Kill or cure…" she heard the hybrid's words echo round the room, "the only two possibilities in nature."

**

Sheppard peered from the ridge on which the Gate stood, toward the settlement in the distance, searching for any evidence, anything that might tell them where to find Michael; what he might have done in this place; what traps might be waiting for him.

"McKay?" he turned to the scientist, "Anything?"

"You see, this is what you get. If Woolsey hadn't pissed off the Athosians—"

"Anything, or nothing, it's a simple choice, McKay."

"Nothing. I got nothing. No energy readings, no evidence, no—" he stopped and then peered at the device in his hand again. "Wait a minute… Oh… oh no, this is bad."

"Rodney?" Sheppard grumbled, "A little more—"

"Colonel Sheppard, the Gate!" the captain of Delta Team called out to him as the symbols began to light.

"Take cover!" Sheppard called out, pushing a little against McKay who was still staring at the screen of his detector. "Move!"

The team scattered, finding whatever cover was to be had on the ridge. Sheppard pulled McKay down behind a large boulder, sheltered by sparse foliage, mere seconds before the first of the Darts came streaming from the Gate.

"Wraith, or Michael's people?" Sheppard hissed.

"Wraith," McKay stammered, horrified, "_The_ Wraith, the… the… the… mother of all Hives."

"Crap," Sheppard said, quickly keying his headset. "This is Sheppard, it's the Wraith. We need to get the hell out of here before they send the ground troops through the Gate. Fall back; regroup in the copse at the foot of the ridge. All units – respond."

**

Sore, but feeling much stronger than the night before, Teyla walked along the track to the town. To one side of them the hedgerow, barely turned in colour toward winter, rustled in the wind blowing across the empty field.

"These fields will bear new crops, Korl, you will see," she said in response to his explanation of how many fields lay fallow, since Michael came to his world.

Beside her Korl smiled as he said, "Some of the others will be—"

The feeling was so intense it was dizzying, but still she managed to turn somehow and push the man into the shelter of the hedge, as the Darts went streaming overhead, like a storm out of a clear blue sky.

"Wraith," she spat.

"You are sure? Michael's peo—"

"I am sure," she told him bitterly.

"They are heading for the town," he said urgently, starting to push his way to his feet again.

Teyla snatched his walking staff from his hands and blocked the pathway as the first of the explosions sounded from that direction.

"No," he protested, trying to push past her, but she stood her ground, pushing back.

"Korl, listen to me," she said, "the Wraith are here to punish your people for their sympathy with Michael… they will stop at nothing to see every single one of you wiped out of existence."

"What do I do?" he asked in desperation.

"Go," she said. "Go back to your home; take your wife and family and leave. Get as far away from the town as you can and do not look back."

"But—"

"Run!" she roared at him, pushing him back in the direction from which they had come. Then she turned and tucking the staff under her arm, she began to run as quickly as she could, running _towards_ the town.

**

"It's a massacre out there," Keller wrapped her arms around her as she backed away from the edge of the trees toward where Sheppard had gathered the others in relative safety. He shook his head at her, knowing they wouldn't be safe for long. Already the sky was blackening with smoke from the fires in the town, and still the Darts were skimming back and forth across the landscape.

"There's nothing we can do, Jennifer, not yet," he said.

"They're searching," Ronon said, looking skyward, watching the patterns of the flying Darts.

"Yeah," Sheppard nodded, "and so are we. McKay? Anything?"

Rodney shook his head.

"They're _killing_ people, Sheppard," Keller said, horrified, "Aren't you going to _do_ anything?"

"There's nothing we _can_ do, Doctor," he growled. "If we go down there, we risk getting caught under Wraith fire; risk getting ourselves killed and that doesn't help anyone. Best thing we can do is hold out and do what we came here to do. Find Michael's people, take them out. Eventually the Wraith will leave and then we'll be able to go out there, find the survivors and—"

"I think I got something," McKay interrupted. Sheppard walked over to peer at the small screen he held in his hands. "It's very faint, but the energy reading matches those we've seen from Michael's facilities before. Coming from a small… cavern just a few klicks beyond the town. If we follow the ridgeline, we should be able to get there undetected."

Sheppard nodded, and clapped the scientist on the shoulder. "Even better at night," he said, "Good man, Rodney – all right, we lay low, wait for dusk and then head out."

"What about Teyla?" Keller asked softly, turning her back on the others and looking out toward the town again. "What if she's down there?"

**

"Run," Teyla shouted toward a woman and her daughter, "This way!" She gathered them quickly to her as they reached her side and propelled them onwards, "Keep going, out beyond the fields, into the trees and the valleys there. Go!"

She did not wait to see if they obeyed, only set herself more firmly on her way deeper into the battlefield that was the town. Around her buildings burned and crumbled, some of the stronger men fought hand to hand with Wraith warriors, only to be cut down in a moment by a shot from a blaster.

With each death her anger and her resolve strengthened, and ignoring her own pain she moved onward, trying to find as many of the townsfolk as she could, dodging fire from Wraith blasters and the strafing runs of Darts alike. She fought to save these people whose only crime was to side against the Wraith with their enemy.

A scream along a narrow alley between buildings drew her steps that way. A young couple sheltered in a doorway, stalked by two Wraith warriors, both taunting their terrified victims. Teyla snatched up a nearby wood-axe and sent it end over end to take the farther of the two Wraith in the throat. The remaining Wraith turned and, abandoning his former quarry, began to advance on Teyla.

Cautiously she backed away, giving herself space, and bringing the staff she carried to readiness. Against his blaster, the staff would have been useless, but she knew from his advance that he wanted more than just the quick kill. It was a risk, but a calculated one.

She did not wait for him to reach clear ground, only for him to be clear enough of the alley that it would not inhibit the arc of her staff. She came at him, her weapon blurring in the wavering light from the fires that burned fiercely around. From the fires, shapes darted and wavered toward her, tricks of the mind, she knew, meant to distract… to weaken.

"Oh no you do not," she murmured, her nostrils flaring as she spoke, and struck in quick succession, not once but three times against the overconfident Wraith warrior. He staggered backwards under her assault, raised his own weapon to try and defend, but under the onslaught of her aggression, her anger and her desire to give the townspeople as much cover as she could, he fell to her attacks, and did not find his feet again.

She moved on, not stopping, dodging aside as the gunfire began to get worse, as the Darts overhead flew closer and closer to the town, firing as they came and she knew what time she had for saving those left behind was at an end and that she had to look to her own survival. She had found no hybrids among the dead, nothing to suggest they had ever been here... and blinded by smoke, and tears of frustration, she began to retreat.

**

They might have missed it. But for the scuffed ground, barely visible in the near dark, and strange light from the flashlights and the distant firelight reflected from a smoky sky.

"Sheppard," Ronon called softly, "this way,"

They'd been following the line of the ridge for several hours, and Sheppard was starting to wonder if perhaps they'd missed it. The entire area was one mass of hills and valleys. Anything could be hidden anywhere.

"Stay sharp," he said, a warning meant for everyone, not just for the marines. "We don't want to run into any surprises out here."

**

She had risked a small fire against the chill in the air, even within the shelter the small shack afforded, the air was still chilled, and the wind whispered through the cracks in the tumbling down brickwork. She had quickly spread out the blanket she had salvaged and closed her eyes, to let the warmth of the fire seep into her chilled form.

_The fire was warm, and she was comfortably relaxed, perhaps almost drowsy as she sat on the soft hearth rug, waiting for him to join her._

_"You know, Kanaan" she said softly, "There is something I have n—"_

_He turned to face her, stepping into the firelight and she stopped and blinked at him. He frowned softly._

_"Is something wrong?" His soft voice was not Kanaan's. It was lighter, softer somehow. Nor was it Kanaan's face that looked back at her. The longer, slightly lighter hair, the blue eyes, the longer, slightly less rounded features… all Michael's… _

_"No, I," she shook her head, "For a moment I thought—"_

_"The Wraith are a long way from here tonight, Teyla." He picked up two wooden bowls from a nearby table and brought them with him as he came to join her in front of the fire. "I made us something."_

_She breathed in deeply of the sweet scent of the Dulusk flower. "Luska Tea?" she asked, "All this time and you still remember?"_

_"Don't make fun of me," he said, starting to turn away, and he looked so hurt that she reached out to stop him; her hand soft and gentle against his cheek. He leaned into the touch. "I made it for __**you**__."_

_She smiled at him and took the bowl he offered, glancing down into the dark liquid… into the reflection of his face in the mirror of its surface… the long white hair, golden, slit eyes and angular, Wraith face looking back. Her breath caught in her chest, the knot of it spiralling down to sit low and deep in her belly._

_-what are we… to do?-_

_"You know… I waited a long time for this," he told her softly, still cupping the wooden bowl she held in his hand, to steady it in hers, that trembled slightly. "I… I'd like to think you—"_

_"Of course… I…" she flushed with embarrassment, a strange feeling in front of him. Oddly out of place. With a breath she took the bowl into both of her hands and sipped at the warm, sweet liquid inside. The sudden enormity of what they were doing caught her breath as she watched him take a sip of his own, his features blurring, changing in the steam rising from the cup. They became no less handsome, no less alluring, but somehow harsher, uncompromising, even without the twin blemishes that showed Michael as his hybrid self…_

_Without another word he took the bowl from her hands and set them both aside, moving closer, his head tilted softly to one side, the firelight changing his yellow eyes to shining burnished gold._

_"Why… why have you never—" she started, but could not finish. She took several breaths before she began again, "We have been friends since we were children. Why has this never surfaced between us before?"_

_"Teyla, does it matter?" he reached for her and she leaned backward a little, out of his reach._

_"Yes."_

_"I was a fool that did not realise his own heart," he reached for her again, sliding his fingers into her hair – leaning closer. The fluttering inside of her reached an almost overwhelming crescendo and only half serious she pushed him away, but she burned with the need for contact – to feel that intimacy._

_He caught her hand, pulled it close to breathe against her wrist, sending a shock through her so intense that she pulled away and moaned softly. He followed, moving closer again even as she backed away, her breathing coming more and more quickly._

_"You would deny me, now that you know…?" he said in a low voice that rumbled through her core._

_"Know?" she whispered, tentatively reaching to brush her fingertips against the air before his lips, "I—"_

_She let out a small cry as he suddenly reached for her, wrapped her in his arms and lifted her closer. Startled she almost beat against his shoulders, looking down into his eyes that were full of need of her…but strangely playful in a way she would never have expected._

_"If this isn't what you want, tell me and I will stop," he said, his fingers teasing against the small of her back, stroking there, where her shirt had risen up. It scalded her… the need for it was so great… and the denial of more, such sweet agony that she struggled away, turning away almost until he caught her hand, and overbalanced the both of them. _

_He caught her in his arms, and rolled so that she was beneath him, their playful game of rough and tumble ended against the pillows of his bed. She laughed softly as he held her down._

_"Surrender," he said quietly, sensually, almost a whisper, leaning up a little so that he could look at her, run his hand over her… the touch light and yet she could feel nothing more._

_"Never." She gasped softly as he slipped his left hand into hers, entwining their fingers against the pillows. His right hand that still held her playfully in place, pressed against her chest._

_A knot of fearful excitement twitched inside of her, stealing her breathing, filling her with the scent of him, clean and musk together as he pressed closer to her. She closed her eyes and reached up with her free hand to run her fingers into his hair._

_"I want you, Teyla," the two tones in his voice mingled to kindle an equality of desire that consumed her; burned within her. "My—"_

_"Michael," she whispered, opening her eyes, feeling the touch of his mind in hers, and the words not spoken; meeting the desire she saw in his golden orbs with her own burning need._

_His lips found hers, and she parted them as he deepened the kiss, almost savage in its primal need. She moaned… longing for touch… the deeply buried need of it surfacing, rushing through her blood and almost drowning her in it as she opened to his touch and he pressed against her, his touch moving over her, under her shirt… against her skin, his fingers teasing against the risen, sensitive peaks her nipples had become._

_Breaking the kiss, she cried out softly, needful, and threw back her head, exposing her neck to his kisses and the sharper sting of his teeth as he nipped gently at her skin._

_Her hands reached for the clothes he wore, needing to feel him skin to skin against her, and he shrugged the garments away. His hands travelled over her body, exposing more and more of her skin to his burning gaze, his deeply needful touch, and the hot, sweet press of his lips against her._

_She reached down, ran her fingers through his hair, grazing his scalp with her fingernails._

_-Teyla- -Teyla- -Teyla-_

_He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers, and she reached for him, drawing up to meet her waiting kiss, one hand in his hair, her teeth pulling gently at his lip, her tongue, tasting every inch of his mouth as he in turn explored hers._

_She trailed her other hand over his shoulder, down his arm to guide the touch of his hand to find the ache that he had kindled in her; to glide against the dewy testament to her desire, between the soft folds of her body until the peaked expression of it._

_His soft moan vibrated against her lips as he explored her, claimed her, made her his with a touch so sure, so certain, that she knew it could only have come from the mirror of her own longing answering his, demanding and quiescent both at once._

_She gasped as his fingers stroked her and teased, breaking the kiss, dizzy with gathering sensation, and releasing his hand from her own she reached to touch the hard heat she felt against her hip, to slide her fingers, roll her palm over the length of him, and arched her back as his answering, low growl against the side of her neck unlocked the need for a deeper intimacy still._

_As the dizzying, spiralling need trembled tightly deep within her belly she caught his hand, held his touch to stillness against her._

_"No," she gasped, only a breath against his ear, "not yet."_

_He lifted his head to look at her, his golden eyes, dark in the firelight, full of the barely held fury of his need._

_"Teyla?" the querying, soft call of her name was almost pained with the expression of it._

_"I want you inside me," she whispered, releasing his touch from her hand._

_He rose over her, a wave poised above the shore of her body. His skin was like fire against hers as he held himself on muscles that trembled with the effort of restraint. She began to close her eyes, feeling the knife edge of equilibrium that existed in this one moment; barely touched together, a storm on the edge of its surge._

_"No, Teyla," he growled softly, "look at me."_

_She opened her eyes, meeting his as her breathing came faster, trembling…matching his own._

_"Michael," she gasped, and her hips rose to meet his, moving as one, each claiming the other as their own. She tightened herself around him, crying out his name again, feeling every part of him filling that empty, wanting ache with such an agonising sweetness that she could not but surrender to it entirely… gladly._

_Limbs tangled, her body moved, rising and falling to meet his, possession and surrender each in turn as she welcomed him over and over inside her. Her nails raked over his shoulders and his back as she wrapped herself around him, drawing him closer… deeper still._

_His breath hissed across her neck, moist from his kisses, alive from the grazing sharpness of his teeth as their movements became stronger, faster as the desire inside her gathered momentum, and was echoed in the touch of his flesh against hers, within her, a part of her…sensation spiralling, winding around her tighter and tighter until she felt the madness of it pushing at her, singing through every trembling muscle._

_"Michael!"_

_She cried out for him as every atom in her being broke apart and he answered, flooding into her, pulsing to fill her, as if with his very life, to the frantic pounding of his heart against hers._

_The wave broke over her a second time..._

…_sweet release… _

Her body, sheened in perspiration, trembled in completion and with a wordless cry, she woke, breathless and tingling... sensitive… alive… She sat up suddenly, sobbing with the memory of the dream, a truth she couldn't deny as she felt the pulse of it still trembling through her body.

"Michael," she cried out into the night, both wanting him, and hating him, a confusion of need and desire inside of her. "What have you done to me?"

**

"Whatever you do, stay behind me," Sheppard told McKay as they inched their way through the maze that was the rocky corridor down which they travelled. Sheppard behind his P90, held ready, took step by cautious step.

"Left… go left," McKay told him, even as he nodded, accepting Sheppard's command for caution. "It should be right up ahead."

Through the doorway, he could feel the open space of the laboratory; an open cavern, unlit, save for the single beams of light from the P90s as the marines spread out through the immediate area. Sheppard could tell, by the way the sound echoed slightly, that the room was larger that it immediately appeared.

"McKay," he said softly, urgently, "see what you can do about getting some kind of light in here."

"I'm on it," McKay said, moving toward one of the banks of controls behind the circle of marines, who spread out to give the scientist cover.

"I'm rather afraid that you're wasting your time, Doctor McKay, Colonel Sheppard." The familiar voice from out of the darkness was accompanied by the positive click of ten marines all tightening their fingers on the triggers of their guns, and by the melodic trill of Ronon's blaster charging.

"Todd," Sheppard said, turning to face the direction from which the voice had come.

"Indeed," the Wraith said, his soft tone held a resigned kind of irritation. He took a step forward into the small pool of light cast by the flashlight attachment on Sheppard's weapon. He tilted his head slightly, "Come now, Colonel, all this time and still we must meet under such conditions as these?" He gestured to the weapons aimed in his direction. "As I said, look around you… I rather fear that we are, both of us, too late."

Sheppard glanced at the emptiness in the dark around them. He felt that Todd was telling the truth, the place was empty. Whatever Michael was doing here – and Michael's people, maybe even Michael himself – was long gone. Slowly he started to release the death grip he had on his P90, and gestured to the other marines to do the same.

"Wait a minute. What are you—" Doctor Keller, her voice incensed, hurried past some of the marines to get to his side, trying to force the barrels of their weapons back into a firing position, Sheppard's too as she finished, "What are you doing? They're responsible for all those deaths out there. They—"

Sheppard raised an eyebrow Todd's way with a small shrug, inviting him to explain himself. While he didn't actually raise his weapon again, he did secure his grip on it.

"They?" Todd's question sounded more like a sigh in the empty room.

"Yes, you… you people… you… Wraith!" Keller stammered at him, waving an angry hand in his direction.

"As a matter of fact, I had very little to do with it," Todd answered softly.

"Oh yeah?" Keller's anger would not be sated, "Then how come you're here?"

Todd raised an eyebrow and looked between Keller and Sheppard, who had been about to ask a similar question, but who shrugged and said, "What she said…" gesturing toward the doctor.

"I would imagine that my reasons for being here are much as your own," Todd told them. "This facility belonged to the one you call Michael. The order for the destruction of the human settlement came not from me, but from the Queen. She—"

"Oh, sure, that's right," Keller said, and Sheppard realised that at least half of her anger came from the fact that she was terrified. "Hide behind the Queen – just following orders… Very—"

She broke off with a small scream that was echoed by the repeating trill of Ronon's blaster as the Satedan stepped forward, menacing the Wraith who, catching her flailing hand, had pulled Keller against him, and now held her, one hand against her chest, the other curled beneath her chin.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Todd advised. If he was intimidated by the Satedan's blaster pointing at his face, he didn't show it. "If you shoot me, I may not have time to feed on her, but… a slight twitch of my hand—"

Jennifer cried out a little as he moved her head with his hand – just a demonstration – and then she whispered, "Ronon…"

"Put down your weapons," Todd said quietly, addressing all of them.

"I don't think so," Ronon snarled.

Sheppard held out his hands, palms down, taking a half step forward. "Let's all just... calm down, shall we? Talk abo—"

"I said put down your weapons." This time Todd's voice was coloured with an edge of anger, and Keller let out another small cry.

"I think I got it," McKay announced, and Sheppard heard him throw a switch. There was a brief hum, and then from the side of the room, luminous green light began to spill from a bank of empty, glass fronted tanks.

It illuminated the darkness, to reveal that, around the outside of the room stood a full complement of Wraith warriors with their weapons pointing inwards, toward Sheppard and the others.

"Oh, crap," McKay said softly.

"One more time, Colonel Sheppard," Todd growled softly once more, his momentary anger abated, "put down your weapons, allow us to leave, and when we are safely away I will return the woman to you, unharmed. You have my word."

Sheppard laid a hand on Ronon's arm, and with a snarl, the Satedan warrior lowered his weapon and moved aside, allowing Todd a clear path to the door.

Step by step they followed him as he retreated down the winding corridor toward the exit.

Part way along the corridor Sheppard keyed his headset radio. "Greenoff, this is Sheppard, there are Wraith coming out. Let 'em go… they have Keller."

"_Understood._"

**

The marines had surrounded the entrance to the cave with flares, and coming from the sudden darkness of the tunnel, the brightness stung her eyes.

Keller felt as though she was going to pass out at any moment, or shake herself apart with trembling. The Wraith's fingers pinched against her neck and chin as they moved, and the metal at one fingertip dug in painfully, until she had to close her fingers around his wrist to try and ease the pressure he exerted. His hand at the top of her chest curled slightly, pressing still more painfully against her flesh.

They stopped moving, and from somewhere overhead she began to hear the whine of Darts approaching. He let go of her neck, though still held her tightly against him, and both their hands fell to the side of him.

"Forgive the necessity," he murmured into her hair, and as he let her go, she felt him press something small and hard into her left hand and close her fingers over it. Then he gave her a sudden push, and she stumbled away from him. She fell to her knees and dry-heaved into the dirt, and Ronon and Sheppard both came to her side.

"You all right?" Sheppard asked softly. She shook her head and hiccupped on the edge of tears as Ronon wrapped an arm across her back and gripped her shoulder in concern.

"We got you," Ronon said. "Just breathe."

Trying to get up from all fours, she held out her left hand, holding up the object. "He… He—" she started breathlessly.

"What _is_ that?" Sheppard asked, coming to take it from her with a frown on his face.

She leaned against Ronon and shook her head, taking in a deep breath, "I don't know," she said, "Just before he pushed me away he put that into my hand."

"McKay?" Sheppard held out the object to the scientist.

McKay frowned. "Looks like a Wraith data module," he said.

"Damn it, Todd," Sheppard said, and as Jennifer watched, he looked skyward. "Why can't you ever just… do things the easy way?" He took a sigh then, and said, "All right, this is what we're going to do. We're going to search the surrounding area. They were here, they can't have gone far. Any clue… anything at all… radio in. Jennifer, Rodney," he gestured toward the tunnel again. "You're with me."

**

The others had long since gone – sent back to the Gate… back to Atlantis again, their tails between their legs, beaten once more by Michael's forces. This was not the way it was supposed to be. McKay had said so – would say so – maybe not so much any more.

_"I should have been there," he said in self recrimination._

_McKay sighed. "And you will be – and knowing the address where we eventually found Teyla, you will be able to get there much quicker. You'll save Teyla, save the baby, change the fate of the galaxy."_

He stood alone in the remains of Michael's facilities. They didn't have the baby, they didn't have Teyla, and from what he could see, the fate of the galaxy was progressing pretty much along the same lines as the future McKay had said it would. Nothing that they did mattered, nothing was changed. Michael was still kicking Wraith butt, and the humans of the galaxy were still suffering at the hands of both Wraith and Hybrid alike.

The scuff of a footfall sounded behind him and, drawing his handgun as he turned, he spun around, ready to take on whatever danger had found him.

She gasped, and took a step back… and he let the gun fall from his hand, rushing toward her, reaching for her to take her by the shoulders and pull her into an embrace. She took another step back, and he froze.

"Teyla…"

"John?"

He let out a breath, just so relieved to see her he had forgotten himself. She moved past him as he did, and he turned to keep her in his sight. He watched her looking around the laboratory, her eyes dull and full of pain.

"We're all… too late," he said, as she reached for something that was caught on the side of the operating table in the centre of the room. "Everything's gone. They—"

It took him a moment to realise that the strange sound he heard was coming from Teyla… like a small, wounded animal crying out for help. It pulled at his insides… twisted them into knots and made him ache with her pain.

He shifted his weight, moved to take a step towards her, when on the edge of her keening sound, she sobbed a word, a name…

_How does it feel, Colonel Sheppard, to know that it's me she calls for in the dead of night; me she reaches for when she's in need?_

"_Don't_ you dare call for that rat-bastard! _He_ did this! All of this pain and suffering, it's all his—"

"I need _answers,_ John!" she turned and screamed at him. "I can't do this alone any more!"

"Then tell _me_ what I can do," he caught her hands and held them, shaking them in his own. "I'll help. I—"

"There is nothing that you can do." she told him, calming as suddenly as her emotions had overwhelmed her. She was sad and resigned, and in that moment he saw her as she truly was… tired, conflicted, and pushed beyond what limits his mind could ever imagine.

"There must be _something._" He sighed and looked at her intently and tried not to hear the haunting voice again as he finished, "someone…"

**Act 5**

"Teyla, it is dangerous… and reckless… and—" Halling paced and ran his fingers through his hair, looking at Colonel Sheppard, and past him at Doctor Keller, both of whom had accompanied her to the new Athosian settlement, whose numbers were recently swelled by the addition of the survivors from Mikalos.

"Halling, please," Teyla caught him in his pacing and placed a hand onto each of his shoulders. "I understand the dangers, but… there is no more hope. For me this is my last and I _must_ know. I _must_ find those memories." She waited for a moment, breathing as steadily as she could, before looking into his eyes, she said, "I know you have it. You are its keeper."

"Doctor Keller will be here to supervise, if that's what you're worried about." Sheppard stepped forward and spoke to Halling.

"Actually, after Teyla told me about the drug this meditation involves, I kind of insi—"

"No," Halling said, tearing his eyes away from Teyla's and cutting off what Doctor Keller had been about to say. "If Teyla is to do this, she must do it alone – the Athosian way. I mean no offense but you have interfered in our lives more than enough."

"But—" Sheppard began.

"Please John," Teyla said softly. "You must let me do this."

**

The secondary facility in which he stood was much smaller, barely more than a room. It had been a bolt hole of his for millennia – one of the many of which he knew he would have to dispose, since they were known to his rival.

Michael finally finished packing up the very last of his experiments. This had been a secondary location, a failsafe… The equipment didn't matter, there was always more to be had, if one searched in the right places, but the results of years of his work, some of it irreplaceable, had to be safeguarded before he could go on.

He turned and handed the case to the waiting hybrid. "Go, I will be… with you shortly." he swallowed as his breath caught in his throat, but the hybrid was already gone. He sighed and took a look around the empty room. Finally, everything was in place.

**

The candle flame burned between them, and in a small glass tumbler she held the dark green liquid to be warmed by the flame.

"Focus," Halling said softly, "See the place you want to go..."

She breathed deeply, pushing away the fear that patrolled, wolf like, at the edges of that place. They were deadly, those fears, any lapse, any lack of focus could mean the difference between life and death for her in the next few hours, the next few days… however long it took to find the key and to reach the truth that was locked inside her.

"Now," Halling ordered. "Drink."

**

A wave of dizziness swept over Michael as he turned to leave. He reached out, and grabbed the wall for support as his vision began to buck and spin wildly. It lasted only a moment and he took a deep breath, trembling slightly as his vision began to clear.

**

Halling supported her as the nausea and dizziness became too much for her to support herself. She felt his arms around her, but they were distant and she could not see him. She heard his voice but he sounded as though they were alone in an empty, sealed tomb… echoing….

"Focus…"

"Focus…" she whispered. "Yes…"

She stared at the candle flame until it was the only thing that she could see… a point of brightness in the dark that was all that she had lost… she pictured him… building his face… drawing it out of the darkness beyond the candle flame… shining… his golden eyes…

_"Please… Michael, no!"_

_She struggled in his arms as he held her, pinned her against the bench, restrained, his hand almost crushing hers. The sharp sting of the needle against the side of her neck was just the beginning. She felt the cold run of liquid into her vein, chilling her as he pushed the fluid from the syringe, and though she knew she should not, for it would hasten the flow of the drug inside of her, she struggled harder._

_Fear… no, it was greater than fear. Panic gripped her as he let her up… literally threw the spent syringe away from them as if in anger or disgust and immediately wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close, holding her against him as, even through her struggling, the convulsions began._

_"Look at me," he told her. The emotion in his voice made her want to and looking up she saw the anguish in his expression. "I need you to understand, they have left me no choice. There is no other way."_

_"What have you done?" she gasped, more painful convulsions spreading through her._

_"I've given you a massive dose of a Wraith neural enzyme. Your body already produces it, and beyond this… physical discomfort, you won't be harmed. But it's necessary if I'm to do what I have to do… to keep you safe."_

_One of his hands moved to cradle the back of her head, keeping her eyes locked with his as she stopped struggling against him and looked up at Michael, jerking and trembling in his arms. More so in that moment than in any other she felt him… the press of his hand against the small of her back, his fingers wound into her hair and the heat of his body pressed close against hers. Her tiny hands trembled against his chest as the darkness of his mind began to close in on her… pushing through all that she knew… all that she remembered._

_"Forgive me, Teyla…" he craved._

_-forgive me, Teyla- -forgive me- -forgive-_

**

"Tired…? Feeling harried?" Michael spun away from the workbench, turning to face the speaker. "Or is there some other reason for your carelessness?"

"Carelessness?" Michael stared at his old rival, antagonism rising in him again, then spread his arms, circling around the Wraith who turned to keep him in sight and said, "My army is away, my equipment, my research protected…?"

"But you, are not," The Wraith scientist took a step forward. "And that is your carelessness."

With no further warning he lunged at Michael, leading with the blade he snatched from a sheath inside the sleeve of his coat. Michael ducked backwards under the swing of the arm, stepped closer and grabbed the outstretched arm. He twisted it behind the Wraith, pushed him against the side of the bench, and twisted until the Scientist released the knife.

"Now who's careless?" he demanded, right against the side of the Wraith's face, before pushing away from him. He did not count on the Scientist's foot.

**

Todd snaked his foot around between the Abomination's feet, just waiting for it to try and move away. It came as he knew it would, and he pulled, hard, with his leg to sweep the Abomination's legs from under him, first one, and then turning full circle as fast as only a Wraith could, kicked out at the other one.

It fell hard, and Todd heard all the air rush from its lungs. He snatched up his knife from where it had fallen to the top of the workbench, and spun again, falling to one knee to strike downward with the sharp, barbed blade.

The Abomination rolled aside, not away from him, but toward him. It lashed out at close quarters, striking with its elbow against the small of his back. Todd rolled with the momentum of the blow, and came to his feet, turning quickly to face his opponent.

**

Michael grabbed the workbench and hauled himself upright, his lungs still aching from the sudden impact, breathing hard from the lack of air. He had to end this soon. He needed his strength, he couldn't afford to expend too much of what little remained to him in fighting the Wraith scientist.

Resentment rose inside of him, anger at the safe havens that this Wraith was already responsible for taking from him. How many more would he have to destroy?

Before the Wraith could put too much distance between them, Michael lashed out, catching him with a half open hand under his chin, jarring his neck backwards. At the same time he raised his other forearm to catch the knife that the Scientist thrust in his direction.

The pain was startling as the barbs tore through the leather of his coat and bit into the flesh beneath. He was momentarily distracted by it, and missed the block as the Scientist lashed out with his other hand, his metal tipped finger leading, to rake across the side of his face.

_-so it begins- -it begins- -begins-_

Stepping closer, keeping in close quarters, Michael struck in quick succession against the Wraith Scientist, unarmed, but no less able to hurt his rival, he hit out time and time again, his fist striking at the Wraith, and blocking the answering attacks that the scientist made.

Even as many times as he blocked the blows, and deflected the knife aimed his way, an equal number slipped past his defences, the pain was mounting, he was tiring, his movements slowing, perpetuating the vicious circle the fight had become. Still, as hard as it was, he _would not_ yield to this Wraith.

**

Todd could not believe the ferocity of the unarmed _thing_ he fought. In spite of being cut, and raked with his metal finger-guard, in spite of the many solid punches that landed against the Abomination, it fought still harder, and when it managed to slip one of its many attacks past his guard, it caused Todd a good deal of pain.

The Abomination moved in close again, trying to aim its blows at his most vulnerable, most sensitive pressure points. Todd blocked with the sweep of his hand that held the knife, felt the barbs again cut through flesh; the warm splash of blood that landed against his hand. He reversed the direction of the knife, stepped in closer, lashing out with fist and knife together.

A terrible mistake. The Abomination anticipated the move, and Todd wondered if he had telegraphed his intentions. The Abomination; Renegade; his former rival in science ducked under the double handed blow and came in hard on Todd's other side, the blow stole his breath.

The Abomination was at his wrist, trying to bend the hand that held the knife, to bring it around under him. He resisted with all the strength he still possessed, pulled the knife back as it twisted one way and then another. Then suddenly the Abomination thrust his shoulder against him, grabbing him around the waist and using the momentum to topple them both toward the ground.

They collided with the workbench, overbalanced and both hit the ground hard, with the knife beneath them, and for a long time, neither combatant moved.

**

"All right, Doctor McKay, let's see what you've got," Woolsey swept into McKay's laboratory to join them. Sheppard groaned inwardly. He'd hoped that the base commander wouldn't show. It would have been so much easier that way.

Oblivious, lost in the demonstration of skill, no doubt, McKay began the play by play as he tried to activate the data module and access the information stored on it.

"Okay, just attach it to the system… slowly bring up the power… firewall in place… run the encryption software and… huh!" McKay frowned as the computer let out an anticlimactic bleep.

"Well?" Keller asked, pushing her way forward in the press of bodies that crowded round the laptop's screen. "Well, what is it? Let me see."

"It's a file. One file," McKay said, throwing up his hand as if it insulted his intelligence to have done all of that work for only one file. "And it isn't even a very interesting file, it's just an image. One image? That's all that he could give us? An image? Throw us a bone, why don't you, Mister Friendly-Wraith. I—"

Sheppard frowned, watching the way Doctor Keller was peering at the screen. "What is it?" he asked, cutting off McKay's tirade.

"It's a visual representation of an amino acid chain," Doctor Keller answered, and then asked, "Why would he give us that?"

"He's a Wraith," Woolsey broke in. "No doubt just toying with us." Then turning to McKay, demanded, "You're quite sure that firewall is secure?"

"What?" McKay said absently, and then waved his hand dismissively at the base commander. "Yes, yes, quite… certain."

"No," Sheppard said, pointing to the screen. "If Todd gave us that, he gave it to us for a reason. Amino acids are your department, right?" he glanced between the doctor and the scientist.

McKay pointed at Keller.

"Well, yes," Keller said, turning around to keep him in view as Sheppard started toward the door. "It's a biochemical compound that—"

"Good," Sheppard interrupted. "See what you can figure out about _that _one."

"What are _you_ going to do?" Woolsey asked.

Sheppard paused part way across the room and turned back to look at them as he said, "I'm going to see a man about a dog – a very ugly dog with yellow eyes, a bad complexion and an annoying tendency toward kidnapping and genetic experimentation. Ronon!"

The big Satedan got to his feet, uncrossing his legs and arms and turned toward Sheppard. "Yeah?"

"You're with me."

**

She looked up as the brief scuffle outside of her chamber disturbed her contemplation. She was seething inside. They hadn't found the woman… and while the settlement belonging to the Abomination's sympathisers had been destroyed, too many of the humans had escaped her wrath. The chamber glowed red in tune with her annoyance.

_=let them come=_

Her annoyance melted to curiosity, and then anticipation as the Wraith guards approached the middle of her chamber, dragging a semiconscious figure between them. Quickly, but sure to appear unhurried, she rose from her throne, and began to descend the steps.

The figure struggled weakly between her guards, defiant even in such a condition. She let out a low, growling hiss. They were dangerous, these hybrid creatures the Abomination created, entirely too strong, to uncontrollable… but why had this one been brought before her? What knowledge did it possess that warranted such an intrusion?

Frowning she turned her head to watch the approaching scientist, tilted her head on seeing the rapidly healing scratches and bruises that marred his face. Sudden realisation of the truth filled her with a thrill of excited hope.

"I made a promise to you, My Queen," the scientist said softly, inclining his head in a small bow. He gestured toward the prisoner.

The Queen turned quickly and flicked her hands toward the guards. They let go of the prisoner and stepped back, though they did not leave the chamber.

The semiconscious figure, suddenly unsupported, staggered a few steps before the strength in its legs gave way and it sank to its knees, in spite of an obvious effort to remain upright. It began to slump forward, but caught itself, leaning on a torn and bloodied arm.

Hissing she came to stand in front of the figure, ignoring the near half step forwards that both the guards, and the scientist made.

_=look at me= =look at me= =look at me=_

With growing satisfaction she unleashed the full force of the mental command on the unfortunate prisoner, on his knees before her. She watched as the trembling began, felt the mental struggle, strong even in such a physically weakened state.

_=look at me= =look at me= =look at me=_

She tightened her mental grasp still further, and relished the sounds of physical discomfort, watching the tendons straining on the side of its neck as he fought her; relished the sound of the cry that came from its throat, past clenched teeth as it finally began to succumb and raised its head toward her….

…and she shivered as, at last, the eyes, slowly rising from the floor of the chamber, met hers, and she saw the cold, hard fury of hatred burning in the Wraithlike golden orbs that captured hers as she finally came face to face with the Abomination.

_To be continued…_


End file.
